Ghost of Dalmasca
by Quatermass
Summary: They call him the Ghost of Dalmasca. A teenaged mage unable to go back home, he works under Princess Ashe, helping her even when she is forced into exile. But can Harry Potter guide Ashe away from a deadly path of revenge? And can a common mage and a bereaved princess find love?
1. Foreword

**FOREWORD**

Some may argue that I am insane for starting yet another Harry Potter crossover, especially with a _Final Fantasy_ game (which seems to be my niche). And yet, I noticed when looking at the crossovers between Harry Potter and _Final Fantasy XII_ that they were all slashfics, as far as I could tell. They may be to other people's liking, but I'm not one of those who like slashfics. Not to my taste. Therefore, I decided to remedy the situation. I decided to write a _Final Fantasy XII_ crossover with Harry Potter that was NOT a slashfic. Certainly the first marked crossover that wasn't a slashfic.

 _Final Fantasy XII_ may be a departure from the series' usual style, but I actually liked it. But one thing that I definitely did not like was the characterisation of Ashe. I know a lot of the game is about her character arc of trying to see the world in shades of grey rather than black and white, as well as trying to let go of, or else temper her desire for revenge, but she is far from endearing at the beginning. I hope to change that a little, keep the anger and desire for revenge, but have it somewhat more tempered by pragmatism. Oh, and the pairing will be Harry/Ashe.

This will probably be my last new story for a while, too. On posting this, I will have 37 stories, 7 completed, and 3 abandoned. I'm starting this partly to fill a niche, so to speak.

Anyway, now for the usual disclaimers. Firstly, there will be spoilers for Harry Potter and _Final Fantasy XII_. You have been warned.

Secondly, there will be a lot of annotations. Don't like? Don't read.

Thirdly, this is an M-rated work for violence, language, and sexual references. Again, you have been warned.

Finally, the following is a fan-written work. Harry Potter and _Final Fantasy XII_ are the properties of their respective owners. Please support the official release. Otherwise, Venat will come and drive you mad. Seriously, Venat has GOT to be the troll of the Occuria…


	2. Chapter 1: A Ghost Walks Abroad

**CHAPTER 1:**

 **A GHOST WALKS ABROAD**

 _Of all the players in the conflict to come, the one who would eventually win the Princess Ashe's heart after her loss of Rasler had perhaps the most elusive of pasts, and certainly the most elusive of lives. He appeared a little over a year before Nabradia's fall, at about the time when Rasler and Ashe first met, under mysterious circumstances that remain the subject of speculation to this day. He gained the counsel of the royal family. Through feats, deeds, and whispers, he gained the cognomen of the Ghost of Dalmasca, a name that inspired intrigue and even fear. Even the House of Solidor in Archadia had heard tales of him, and sought to uncover his true identity in order to recruit or eliminate him._

 _When I later met him when he first came to Bhujerba, I found him oddly unimpressive, almost kin to the Rabanastan urchin Vaan, and certainly less impressive than the sky pirate Balthier and the sky pirate's Viera comrade and consort Fran, or the supposed traitor and regicide Basch. However, when one looked closer at his green eyes, one noticed an age beyond his years, something confirmed by his caustic tongue and wit. The youth had been a soldier, and had seen loss. And his accent, seemingly belonging to Archadia, seemed at odds with his loyalty to Dalmasca, and his personal loyalty to the Princess. His counsel also betrayed a wisdom beyond his years, though it was tainted with bitter cynicism and dark humour._

 _To underestimate others based on their appearances do so at their own peril. And the Ghost of Dalmasca, though far from the only example of this truism, was one of the most prominent in Ashe's tale…_

 _-Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, Chapter 11: Of The Union of Kingdoms_

Rumours wafted around the city of Rabanastre like mist and fog. Such is the prerogative of any large city at the centre of a kingdom, even one as relatively small as Dalmasca. One persistent rumour, that had all but passed into myth in the short space of a year, was that of the Ghost of Dalmasca, a master thief and assassin. Nobody knew what he looked like, they said, and those who saw his face would die soon after.

Of course, the truth of these matters was very different. The Ghost's face was known, albeit to a select few. He had killed few people, and only the worst of the worst. Those who did know were still surprised that the Ghost was so young, and yet, so skilled.

Even now, tonight, the Ghost walked abroad. Rabanastre was filled with tension, news about the Archadian Empire's invasion of the neighbouring kingdom of Nabradia, and the fall of Nabudis. At this point, there was still fighting going on at Nalbina Fortress, where King Raminas was to sign a treaty with the Archadian Empire. Well, more of a surrender, and it was more than likely Raminas would be promptly killed.

The Ghost ventured forth this night because he had enough of being stifled with worry inside the palace. And while he had the greatest sympathy for Ashe, given that she had just lost her beloved husband, he also felt uncomfortable around her, unable to reach out to comfort her. Especially with that temper of hers. Already, she was plotting rather vague plots of revenge against the Archadian Empire. They were about the same age, but they had had very different upbringings, something a few of the haughtier members of her entourage never failed to remind him of.

He wished that Basch hadn't gone to Nalbina. Basch was a friend, and the one who helped teach him swordcraft. Of course, he had a few friends. Prince Rasler had been one, of course, as was Ashe. They at least didn't look down on him for his origins. Neither did King Raminas. Vossler was a different matter entirely. Vossler viewed the Ghost as useful, but a potential liability and interloper with no past (though he spoke with an accent that could be considered Archadian), and who did not fight with honour. Then again, he had no argument when the Ghost told him bluntly that fighting with honour rarely won battles. Honour was for diplomacy and peace, not for battle.

The Ghost knew better than anyone that there was no such thing as heroes. He had been lauded as a hero…and then condemned as a lunatic, an attention-seeking brat. Even now, his hand occasionally itched, though thankfully, that scar didn't hurt. Hadn't done since his arrival here, and even now, it was fading.

He spent the night listening to people's fearful discussions. He went into the Sandsea (after making himself visible), and had a drink, the drinking age being rather more lax in Rabanastre than back home. He listened to the rumours, and even had a look at the bounty board, before he headed back out. He even stopped by Clan Centurio, and had a chat with Montblanc, Krjn, Ma'kenroh, Monid and Bansat.

Soon, he tired of his wanderings, and made his way back to the Royal Palace. The wards were meant to dispel Vanish spells, but the Cloak he wore was another matter entirely.

He soon found his quarry in the training grounds, hacking away at a dummy with a sword. She was skilled, but she was also running herself ragged. As she finished one set of swings, he cleared his throat gently to let her know he was there. She barely reacted, and neither did her guards, which was good. She was getting better at not trying to turn him into a pincushion. "Reveal yourself, Ghost."

He winced as he removed the Cloak, saying, "That hurts, you know, Ashe." He was one of the few who was privileged to be able to call her that, rather than Lady Ashe or Princess Ashe or Your Majesty, at least when in relative private.

"Then at least I am not alone in my own hurt," Ashe said, bitterly. Then, with a scream, she spun, swinging her sword at the dummy, and decapitating it. She panted heavily, before turning to him. Even in a basic training tunic and trousers, she looked good. Sandy blonde hair framing an elegant, beautiful face, though it was marred by sweat and tears. "My apologies, Harry, but…after what happened to my beloved, and knowing my father may very well be walking into a trap…"

Harry Potter nodded. "Yeah, you're under a lot of strain at the moment. All of Rabanastre is at the moment. I've been out. The people are scared. They have every right to be, with the Archadian Empire breathing down our necks. The thing that scares me most is what happened to Nabudis. I overheard some soldiers talking about it in the Sandsea. A massive explosion, they said."

"Some new weapon the Empire has developed, no doubt."

"Actually, those two heard rumours that it may very well have been a gem, maybe even the Midlight Shard. They even mentioned that it may have been Nethicite."

Ashe frowned as she considered this. "That sky-pirate you were on good terms with, Balthier…you said he told you that the Empire was looking into Nethicite. But how would Nethicite cause such devastation? You informed me that Balthier was certain that Nethicite absorbed magic."

"Yeah, but…well, I dunno. There's not enough information. It's like there's some cosmic Dumbledore who is refusing to give me information when anyone needs it. All I know is that it could have been Nethicite that turned Nabudis into a smoking ruin."

Ashe seemed to be thinking about something. "But perhaps the Dusk Shard…"

"Dusk Shard? The royal treasure? Oh, _shit_." Harry knew that Ashe, if she heard news of King Raminas' death, intended to head into hiding. It was a plan he had discussed at length with Vossler. Better to make sure that the Dusk Shard didn't end up in the hands of the Empire. "D'you know where it is?"

"The Treasure Room. It is concealed, but my father told me how to access it. We need a Sunstone, but we had some delivered from the Giza Plains yesterday, as a funerary gift for Rasler. You think we should get it, lest the Empire take it as their spoils?"

"Well, they may not even find it, but the Midlight Shard was the treasure of Nabradia. They may be seeking for it anyway. And it is one of the few proofs of your lineage, isn't it?"

Ashe nodded. "We'll go and get a Sunstone forthwith." She turned to one of her guards. "If Vossler or Basch arrives with ill-tidings, bring him to us immediately."

* * *

As they hurried through the corridors of the Palace, Ashe cradling a Sunstone, Harry muttered, "This reminds me of the time I had to protect the Philosopher's Stone."

"At least we only had to trigger some mechanisms," Ashe remarked. Ashe was one of the few who believed his stories, or at least took the time to listen to them. Basch believed them, but considered Britain to be a remote island, elsewhere in Ivalice. Vossler was more sceptical.

Then again, you tended to have that reaction when you ended up sprawled in the gardens of the Royal Palace of Rabanastre, the capital of the Kingdom of Dalmasca. And where speaking with a British accent marked you as coming from Archadia, one of the big empires, and an enemy of Dalmasca.

Even now, his old life began to feel almost like a dream. The scars from Voldemort's attack, Umbridge's sadistic detentions, and what his 'loving' relations put him through were amongst the only things that reminded him that everything before then was real. That, and his wand and his Invisibility Cloak. He only hoped that his friends managed to make it out of the Department of Mysteries alive…and that they would find a way to stop Voldemort. That Veil he had intercepted Sirius from falling into had the feel of a one-way trip, and he had been unable to find even a hint of a way to get back.

So he had resigned himself to being stuck here. Officially, he was a Library Assistant in the Rabanastre Palace. Unofficially, he was one of Ashe's confidants, along with Rasler until he was killed. And very unofficially, he was the Ghost of Dalmasca, one of King Raminas' most elusive spies, even if he kept mostly to Dalmasca.

As they made their way to a secret door, Harry said, "They'd probably betroth you to one of Gramis' sons to keep a better leash on you."

"I'd sooner die," Ashe retorted.

"They probably wouldn't let you," Harry said as they reached the secret door and opened it. "I actually talked to Balthier about Gramis' sons. Vayne's apparently a ruthless and manipulative hardarse who killed two of his brothers for treachery to Gramis, but he's also a pragmatist with a soft spot for his youngest brother, Larsa. Larsa's a bit naïve and a bit of an idealist, but he's surprisingly canny, despite his youth. There's even rumours that he is in communications with Al-Cid Margrace, one of the members of the ruling family of Rozarria."

Ashe scoffed. "He is fortunate that his father has not had him executed for treachery."

"Al-Cid and Larsa don't want war, but they're amongst the few voices," Harry remarked sardonically. "Rozarria and Archadia are itching to go to war, and turn Dalmasca into their battleground. They don't give a fuck about the people of Dalmasca. Your being descended from Raithwall means bugger all to them."

"That's a cynical way to view the world," Ashe said.

"Politics is filled with cynicism. So's history once you strip away the glory," Harry said. "Heroes either die, or become the next villain, whether they are truly bad or not."

"Are you suggesting that Rasler would have become a villain had he lived?" Ashe demanded indignantly.

"The Empire would have painted him as a rebel, a troublemaker, and a destroyer of peace, regardless of what his character was like," Harry retorted. "I know Rasler was a good man. He won your heart, didn't he? And it'll be some time before someone wins your heart again. But history is written by the winners, and the winners tend to demonise their foes."

"Again, a cynical way to view the world, especially in someone as young as myself," Ashe said. "And while your childhood was unconventional, I am still surprised at your jaded view of the world. Especially in light of your actions."

Harry chuckled with precious little mirth. "One of my oldest friends, as I have said before, told me I have a 'saving people thing'. At least here I'm not expected to be the saviour of a country. That's your job."

Ashe mirrored his mirthless chuckle from earlier. They then found the Treasure Room at that point. Ashe hesitated for a moment, before finding a hidden switch. When she activated it, a statue of a goddess opened up, revealing a dark blue stone.

"This is it," Ashe said quietly, plucking the stone from its hiding place. "The Dusk Shard. Better it remains in my hands than that of the Empire, especially if they caused the levelling of Nabudis."

As she pocketed it, they heard someone approaching. It was Vossler, looking very haggard and shocked. "Your Majesty, I bring dire tidings. Your father is dead."

"No…" Ashe hissed.

"Save your shock for what I am about to say next. King Raminas was murdered by a traitor: Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg."

As Ashe stared at Vossler, her eyes wide in horror and betrayal, Harry frowned. "Are you sure it was him?"

"One of the soldiers under his command, Reks, witnessed it. He has suffered grievous wounds, and will probably die, but he said he was attacked by Basch, only for Basch to be captured by Vayne Solidor. He claims that he was doing it because King Raminas was signing away Dalmasca."

"You are quick to suspect your ally's betrayal. Does that sound remotely like something Basch would do?" Harry asked with an acid tone.

"You dare call Reks a liar?"

"No. And I'm not saying it is impossible by any means. But Archadia has a love for theatre and misdirection. And besides, they could have found someone with a resemblance. Didn't you know Basch had a twin brother that he left behind in Landis? Noah fon Ronsenburg?"

"He never spoke of his past to me. What makes you any different?"

"I sometimes say the right or wrong things. And I listen," Harry said simply.

"We are wasting time on fripperies," Ashe said. "Whoever slew my father will die by my hand if I have any say in it, whether it be Basch or some doppelganger. Vossler, where do we flee to?"

"For the moment, the Garamsythe Waterway. Not the best of hideouts, I know, but we have little choice," Vossler said. "They will either send you to your father, or else make you a puppet queen. I believed that neither alternative was palatable for you."

"No," Ashe replied. "Far from it. Do we have enough time to get some clothing and supplies?"

"I've already ordered a couple of my trusted men to fetch some. Practical stuff that shouldn't be missed. We need to decide on a new name for the time being."

Ashe had little hesitation. "Amalia. Because I will work hard to restore my true standing, and avenge those taken from me(1). Vossler, you will be my right hand. Harry, you shall be my left. Let us be away, before Archadia's dogs come for me."

Harry nodded. But even as he prepared to help Ashe go into hiding, he couldn't help but wonder what he had gotten himself dragged into now. Last time, it had been dealing with an evil wizard and his followers. Now, he had not one but two whole empires to deal with. That's what he got for keeping going with his 'saving people thing'…

 **CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here's the beginning. More will be discussed about how Harry came to be here. Harry will end up with Ashe, but it'll take a while. She needs to get over Rasler's demise first.**

 **Next chapter (after a timeskip) will see the debuts of Vaan, Vayne, and Venat.**

 **1\. Amalia, in Latin, means 'hardworking', according to the Final Fantasy Wiki.**


	3. Chapter 2: A Vayne Undertaking

**CHAPTER 2:**

 **A VAYNE UNDERTAKING**

 _In my haste to declare Princess Ashe and Captain Basch dead on Vayne Solidor's suggestion, I had alienated those who should have been my true allies within the Resistance. By declaring her dead upon her disappearance, my behaviour must have seemed like that of a pro-Archadian sycophant to those who knew of her survival. What I meant to protect, I only hampered. I should have discerned Vayne's motives immediately, but alas, I failed to do so._

 _Nonetheless, Ashe had many allies to keep her company and give her counsel. Her right-hand man was Vossler York Azelas, former Captain of the Order of the Knights of Dalmasca. Her left-hand man was Harry James Potter, the Ghost of Dalmasca. Both men achieved feats of great daring in the service of Ashe, though Harry's achievements are perhaps even greater, because many things he did would have been considered impossible under normal circumstances, even with valour and cunning._

 _But there are people throughout history who sneer at the word 'impossible'. Ashe and her aides certainly counted amongst their number…_

 _Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, Chapter 14: What Lies Beneath_

 _Two years later…_

Harry toyed with his wand as he watched Vayne Solidor, 'crown prince', so to speak, to the Imperial Seat of Archadia, walk around the palace gardens, Harry hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. It would be ridiculously easy to kill the man, given how the man seemed to have an apparently lack of regard for his own safety, with the speech he had made a couple of hours earlier at his inauguration and his actions afterwards helping to solidify this impression. _Seemed to_ being the operative words: the man grew up in the labyrinthine and treacherous world of Archadian politics. It would be unwise to judge on appearances. It was more likely he was a canny operator who used honeyed words, grand gestures, and personal risks to get what he needed.

His mission was simple: observe Vayne and his security arrangements, and report back. He had managed to persuade Ashe that attacking Vayne during the feast tonight was a fool's errand, something Vossler needed even less persuasion to do. Even if they did succeed in killing Vayne, they would risk the wrath of Archadia. Taking him hostage seemed out of the question. Some factions in Archadia would be glad to have him killed while 'quelling an uprising'. In fact, Ashe wanted more information about how to use the Dusk Shard, and was strongly considering mounting an expedition to Raithwall's Tomb to obtain the Dawn Shard as well, thus strengthening her claim to the throne.

Most of the past two years had been spent organising the Resistance and mounting occasional raids on Imperial assets within Dalmasca and Nabradia. Harry had successfully infiltrated the Nalbina Dungeons, and freed many of Ashe's former troops. He even found Basch in an oubliette (much to his surprise, as Harry believed that he was probably dead), and after seeing a brief confrontation between Basch and his twin brother, now going by the name of Judge Gabranth, extracted Basch. It hadn't been the best of reunions, but Basch had reiterated the same story he had once told Harry. Harry had also seen fit to bring a camera, a relative rarity in Ivalice, but he had taken a picture which, though it didn't dispel all suspicion, nonetheless allowed Ashe and Vossler to give Basch the benefit of the doubt. Basch was currently scouting the road to Raithwall's Tomb, out in the Jagd Yensa.

As he mused, Vayne stopped right in front of him. He then seemed to turn and look in his direction. Harry's breath stilled.

Eventually, Vayne said in his cultured voice, "An assassin would have killed me by now, if he had a weapon other than a stick. A spy you are, but of what sort? Rozarrian? Dalmascan? Or perhaps one of the Senate's hounds?"

Harry remained silent.

"You are no doubt wondering why I know you are here, when you are utterly invisible to my eyes. However, you are not the only invisible one present, and he has the right kind of eyes to see through your deceit. He also claims that the raiment you wear is an Occuria gift to the mages of your world."

 _Occuria?_ Harry mouthed to himself. But who could know that he came from another world?

"Well? Speak up, or I will draw my sword and run you through. As I can't see you myself, it may not prove lethal…immediately."

Harry remained silent, out of fear, until Vayne drew his sword. Instinctively, Harry yelled, "EXPELLIARMUS!" as he brandished his wand. Vayne's sword was sent flying.

Vayne's reaction was startling. He chuckled. "It seems that I am at your mercy. Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Dalmasca?"

Harry, backing away slightly, said in a quiet rasp (reminiscent of the time when he had to imitate the Bloody Baron to deter Peeves back in his first year), "Yes."

"It is said that those who see your face perish. If you wish to remain concealed, I will allow it, but at the first hint of treachery, I will be sure to test whether you can bleed. Well? A spy wants information. Ask away."

There were many questions, but one came to mind, given Vayne's words. "The Occuria…who are they?"

Vayne seemed surprised that this was a question he was to be asked. "The would-be authors of Ivalice's history," Vayne said. "The puppet-masters behind King Raithwall, the Dynast King. They gave gifts of artifacts to your world, according to my friend. A Cloak of Invisibility that never fades or ages, a Stone that can recall the spirits of the dead to converse with the living, and a Wand of great power. But they soon grew bored with your world, and they had nearly overreached themselves going there anyway. Venat was most surprised to find you here, as no portals should exist anymore."

"Venat?"

A mysterious shape appeared behind Vayne. It was hard to tell what it was, whether it was like an elaborate cloak, or a suit of armour, or the shell of some creature. Two glowing eyes stared at him, impassively, from what could have been the top. " _Of the Occuria I once was, but I, the heretic Venat, count myself amongst them no longer_ ," the apparition said in an androgynous, ethereal voice. " _The Stones are the strings of which the Occuria use to manipulate their marionettes, mage child._ "

Venat then faded. And Harry eventually asked, struggling to keep his disguising rasp on, "What Stones did that phantom speak of?"

"Raithwall's legacy, Deifacted Nethicite."

"Was Nabudis your doing?"

"Not my personal doing, though Dr Cid asked that the Midlight Shard's power be tested. Such horrific power, isn't it? That was the true power of the Dynast King: desolation. Devastation. And what a mess we made when it all went wrong(1). You know, it's a shame you aren't working for me. I could use someone of your skills. But I am sure your loyalty lies elsewhere."

"To the people of Dalmasca. Not to the invaders. Some of your soldiers are as protective of Dalmasca as they are of Archadia, and they have my respect. But you would use Dalmasca as bloody battlefield with Rozarria."

"True enough," Vayne admitted.

Harry scowled, but he said, "And the security is lax…you are either stupidly confident, or you're trying to invite assassins into a trap. And I don't think you're stupid. But neither is the Resistance."

"You mean the Insurgency."

"It depends on which side you're on. One last question: if the Occuria are behind the Nethicite, are there any records or proof?"

Vayne chuckled slightly, before saying, "You know, I carelessly left a copy of Dr Cid's journal about his trip to Giruvegan and his discussions with Venat on my desk. And do give my regards to Princess Ashe. Tell her that if she should truly wish to break free of the Occuria, then to beware of any ghosts and shades less substantial than yourself. Particularly if she sees the late and lamented Prince Rasler. The heartstrings are amongst the favourite means of puppeteering for the Occuria."

"Says the man with one hanging around his shoulder, assuming that wasn't hallucination. How do you know you're not being manipulated?"

Vayne chuckled again. "Perhaps I am. But I am certainly a puppet who can see his strings. If you wish for proof that he is no hallucination, mention the name 'Venat' to the sky-pirate Balthier if you can find him."

* * *

Stealing the journal was easy enough. And quite coincidentally, Balthier was inside the Sandsea, along with his Viera partner (in more ways than one), Fran. Balthier was a man only a few years Harry's senior, with roguish good looks framed by short light-brown hair and a cultured demeanour. Fran was an elegantly beautiful, dark-skinned and white-haired woman who appeared to be in her twenties, but Harry was sure was much older. Viera were very long-lived, and her rabbit-like ears marked her as one of them. She was dressed in rather skimpy 'armour', and even wore stilettos, though the choice in footwear was due more to the shape of their foot rather than any fashion statement.

"Ah, it seems our friend has come to pay us a visit," Balthier said with a smile, only for it to vanish when he saw the expression on Harry's face (the young wizard having divested himself of the Invisibility Cloak long before entering the Sandsea).

"Something of serious import, he has to say," Fran remarked.

"You can say that again," Harry said.

"Something of serious import, he has to say," Fran repeated with a wry smile on her face. "What troubles you, Harry?"

"I was told to ask you about something. Maybe it requires privacy, because it seems to be of great import. I can erect a privacy paling if you wish."

"Then do so," Balthier said, all-business.

Once Harry did so, he said, "I was told to mention the name 'Venat' to you."

Balthier's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "And who, pray, told you that name?"

"I cannot divulge my source, but said source said to seek you out. Venat, supposedly, is a phantom being, of a people known as the Occuria, who have manipulated Ivalice for some time. I even stole a copy of a journal belonging to Dr Cid on my informant's direction."

Balthier gestured. "Let me see it."

Harry, reluctantly, handed the book over. Balthier flicked through it urgently for about a minute, Fran peering over his shoulder, before the sky-pirate scowled. "The ravings of a madman…or a frightening horror story." He handed it back over. "The frightening thing is, I used to think it was merely the former. Now I don't know."

"You knew Dr Cid?"

"A long time ago. But that is firmly in the past. He did speak somewhat to someone called 'Venat', about 'putting the reins of history back in the hands of man'. I thought it madness, but it seemed that there was method to it(2)."

Fran looked at Harry. "This is a troubling development, to say the least. But why does the Resistance and Amalia have an interest in Venat?" Balthier and Fran knew of Amalia's true identity, or at least could guess, given Harry's involvement with Ashe prior to her 'suicide'. While they didn't know that he was the Ghost of Dalmasca, they knew he was a contact of sorts with Ashe.

"They don't know yet. I was talking to my source when it came up. Amalia's not going to be happy. Like you, she'll think it either delusion, or disturbing. Oh, by the way, Amalia might have a proposition for you. She wants your help in heading to the Jagd Yensa on an expedition in a few days."

"To Raithwall's Tomb?" Balthier asked, raising an eyebrow. He shared a look with Fran. "Perhaps we should hold off on that raid on the Palace's treasure rooms. We can't very well help Amalia if we are stuck in Nalbina Dungeons…"

* * *

When Harry got back to one of the Resistance hideouts in the Garamsythe Waterway, he was confronted by the sight of Ashe and Vossler keeping a teenaged boy with blonde hair under guard. Harry recognised him, and groaned. "What happened here?" he asked.

"We caught this rat skulking around," Vossler said. "We haven't decided whether he's a spy, or merely a thief. He had a Sunstone in his possession, though, and we think he may have been going to raid the Palace during the feast."

"Probably just a thief," Harry said. "I know this kid. His name's Vaan. He works for that old Bangaa Migelo, but he's a pickpocket on the side. Tends to target the Archadians. He probably learned about the Sunstone thing from Old Dalan."

"Harry? What're you doing here?" the teenaged thief asked, confused. Harry had helped the kid out on occasion, when he wasn't hiding under his Invisibility Cloak. He'd even bought a few meals for Vaan and his friend, Penelo.

"Oh, I'm just admiring the subterranean architecture of the Garamsythe Waterway…what the hell do you think I'm here for? Seriously, Vaan, were you really going to try and take something from the Palace?"

"…For the people of Rabanastre," Vaan mumbled.

"Yeah, not that I disagree with the whole Robin Hood thing, but the stuff in there belongs to you as much as it does to the Imperials. Not only that, but sneaking through the Palace is an appallingly stupid thing to do."

Ashe looked at him with a wry, sardonic smile. "Unless you have advantages. Can you vouch for him?"

"Well, yes. He hates the Imperials, and he'd make a pretty inept spy. He's a half-decent thief, true, and he's good in a fight, though most of what he practises on are the rats here."

Vaan facepalmed. "Dalan didn't…did he?"

Harry grinned as he said to Ashe and Vossler, "They call him Vaan Ratsbane."

Even the usually stoic Vossler chuckled at that. After they finished, Harry said, "He was taught by his brother, Reks."

"Reks?" Vossler turned to Vaan. "I thought your mien looked familiar. He fought well, despite his inexperience. I am sorry for his passing. Even so, by coming here, you have seen altogether too much. Will you take up arms like your brother, and fight for the restoration of Dalmasca?"

"Not like I have a lot of choice. But Penelo might be worried about me, and…"

"I'll go talk to her and Migelo," Harry said. "Tell them you have a new job or something."

As Vossler led Vaan away, Ashe remarked, "He will be most surprised when he sees Basch, will he not?"

Harry chuckled. "I should give you guys a camera to capture the moment." Then, he remembered what happened earlier, and turned to Ashe. "By the way, I got some information."

"About Vayne?"

"Straight from the horse's mouth. He had an ally who could see through the Cloak." On her shocked expression, he nodded. "Vayne was surprisingly forthcoming, though. What he said seems fantastic…but he's telling some of the truth at least. He even directed me to steal this."

As he handed the journal over, she asked, "What is this?"

"A copy of the journal of Dr Cid. What's more, Balthier confirmed that he heard Cid talking to Venat, the same being shadowing Vayne. Vayne's playing his own game, true, but this is information we can't discount. And he did say to beware any shades less substantial than me, especially if they look like Rasler."

She scowled. "Taking counsel from the enemy…still, if Balthier has confirmed this…I would read this journal myself. On a related note, are Balthier and Fran willing to come to the Jagd Yensa?"

"They're sky-pirates, treasure hunters. They jumped at the chance of a little tomb-raiding. And in any case, I think Balthier has his own stake in this. He certainly knew Dr Cid. And he seems to think this is serious. If Vayne is misleading us, then it's a lie based in truth. He has his own agenda, and we have ours."

Ashe nodded. "I understand. We will be heading to Raithwall's Tomb within a few days. Basch scouted ahead enough that we can use a Teleport Stone to head there, and we have need of ranged weapons, for there is a massive winged beast guarding the Tomb, a Garuda-Egi, according to Basch. After we retrieve the Dawn Shard, as well as the Esper dwelling within, we have taken a step closer to reclaiming my throne."

Harry smiled. Ashe was impatient to reclaim her throne, and understandably so. But the time spent with him, and with others, had helped temper her anger slightly. And she understood the precarious nature of her position, between Rozarria and Archadia. But while she allowed Harry to spare Vayne's life for now, she knew, from Basch, that the man had helped orchestrate her father's murder. He couldn't blame her if, one day, she did kill him.

They had become more than monarch and servant, commander and soldier. Even before her flight, they had become friends. And while Rasler's death still kept Ashe distant from Harry (as well as many others), it was little secret that Harry was probably Ashe's closest friend in the Resistance.

Not that he could expect it to go any further than that. She was a princess, after all, and as mentioned, Rasler's death had Ashe keeping her friends at arm's length. But at least they were friends, and despite the reality of life on the run, they were bound together.

Harry missed his home. But at least he had Ashe…

 **CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **While set at the beginning of the game's events, this chapter shows that the game's canon is already off the rails. And in case you're wondering, Vayne and Ashe will NOT be working together. They will be working for the same goals, but along separate lines. Ashe still can't get over her desire for revenge (though she's more calculating and less impulsive about how she wants to get it), and Vayne is a power-hungry pragmatist. They may occasionally join forces, but they are ultimately opposed. Larsa, of course, is another matter. And then, there may be Dr Cid…**

 **1\. Vayne is quoting from the lyrics of the song** ** _Nuclear_** **by Mike Oldfield, notably used on one of the trailers for** ** _Metal Gear Solid V: The Phantom Pain_** **.**

 **2\. If you don't know that this comes from** ** _Hamlet_** **(and is specifically spoken by Polonius), then stop reading this and go back to school. :P**


	4. Chapter 3: A Touch of Tomb-Raiding

**CHAPTER 3:**

 **A TOUCH OF TOMB-RAIDING**

 _The romance between Princess Ashe and Harry Potter was an unconventional one in many ways, despite it growing from a pre-existing friendship. Despite the popular prevalence in works of fantasy fiction, it is rare that royal blood marries someone of relatively common station, and even heroic knights virtually never win the hand of the fair princess. In addition, Princess Ashe was a widow who was still suffering from the loss of her husband before she even attained the age of eighteen._

 _But true love (and not the fatuous infatuation people believe love to be) can cross many barriers. The Ghost of Dalmasca admitted that it was perhaps at the Tomb of Raithwall that he realised that he wanted to be more than just a friend to Ashe. But it would take some time before he would muster the courage to speak those thoughts out loud…_

 _Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, Chapter 19: Love Across Boundaries_

He had encountered Balthier and Fran while on the way to tell Penelo and Migelo about Vaan's new job, so to speak, the next morning. The three of them spoke to the old Bangaa and Vaan's childhood friend. Harry did notice, albeit briefly, some rather unsavoury-looking Bangaa hanging around nearby, including a green one with a surplus of piercings. Penelo was, naturally, worried for Vaan, but Harry promised to keep him safe, and Balthier, as a token of promise to return with Vaan intact, lent her a handkerchief.

Then, after a few days of preparation (and Vaan nearly killing Basch when he learned he was still alive: Ashe, Vossler, and Harry howled in laughter over the photos taken of that moment), they set off for the Jagd Yensa. While it was only a short walk to the edge of the Jagd Yensa, and an even shorter one to the Teleport Crystal, it was decided to take Balthier's airship, the _Strahl_ , to the edge of the Jagd Yensa, and take the Teleport Crystal from there to one closer to the Tomb of Raithwall. Balthier wanted to avoid anyone attempting to steal his airship, and as the Rabanastre Teleport Crystal was guarded by Archadian soldiers, questions were bound to be asked of any relatively large group leaving through there.

The group was still relatively small, to try and avoid attracting attention. Harry, Ashe, Vossler, Basch, Vaan, Fran and Balthier were the ones making the journey. Vossler was far from happy at allowing sky-pirates access to the Tomb of Raithwall, but Ashe hushed him. As it turned out, Balthier and Fran knew 'Amalia' was Ashe, and referred to her as such openly once they were outside Rabanastre. Vaan was astonished to find that the hardened young woman was in fact the supposedly-dead princess of his country, though he did hurriedly swear to keep this secret.

Basch's intelligence about the Garuda-Egi turned out to be spot-on, and, armed with bows and guns (Vossler using a Telekinesis Technick to effectively slash his sword at the massive bird-like beast, and thus harm it), and using some Quickenings, they soon brought it down. Vossler and Basch were soon at work, stripping the carcass of the Garuda-Egi down for anything useful. Meanwhile, Ashe turned to Balthier and Fran, Harry and Vaan standing nearby. "Balthier, while you have my thanks in helping me in this endeavour, even if it not be for altruistic reasons, I do not like being kept uninformed. You know something about Venat and Dr Cid, so I am told. As you seem to know my identity, I would want to know yours."

Balthier and Fran looked at each other, before Balthier said, "I left behind my birth name long ago, along with the heritage that came with it. But your suspicion is understandable. The leading man often has to deal with suspicion during his adventures."

Harry snorted. He was used to Balthier's proclamations of being the 'lead character' in the story. "Balthier…" he said pointedly.

"Very well," Balthier sighed. "I was born Ffamran mied Bunansa, the only son of Doctor Cidolfas Demen Bunansa. I was even a Judge Magister for a time. But my father's madness and his fixation on Magicite and Nethicite led me to forsake that existence. I am simply Balthier now, sky-pirate and ladies' man."

"So, you come with us not just out of a desire for tomb-raiding, but to satisfy your personal curiosity?" Ashe asked, raising an eyebrow.

"More than personal curiosity, princess," Balthier said. "Keeping the Deifacted Nethicite out of the hands of the Empire is also a good reason. I heard rumours, as has your own pet thief, about the Midlight Shard being responsible for Nabudis being turned into a Necrohol. Imagine that power turned on Rabanastre, on Archades, on Mount Bur-Omisace, or on Rozara(1)."

"There was a time when I would have gladly turned the Dusk Shard's power on Archades," Ashe said bitterly. "But Harry's counsel had me reconsider. My grievance is with the Emperor and his hounds, not with the people they rule. When the time comes for my revenge, it will be targeted and personal. I will kill Vayne and Gramis, but only once I am assured that Dalmasca will not fall with them."

"Gramis is old, even dying," Balthier said. "He'll be lucky to last more than a couple of years. But he is also beholden to the Senate. I wouldn't be surprised if Vayne launches a _coup d'etat_. I only ask of you, princess, is that you don't become a slave to those stones. You're better than that(2)."

"I don't intend to let these stones rule me." Her eyes flickered about in unaccustomed furtiveness, and then, she said, quietly, "If these Occuria do exist, then I am certain that they will have me oppose Vayne and the Empire. While I do, I do not intend to become the obedient dog of would-be gods. On the other hand, though, should I rebel too overtly against them too soon, then they may choose another to be their puppet Dynast King, and Dalmasca and its people may fall to ruin regardless. I have decided to play along to their script until the time comes to diverge from it."

"Wait, who are these Occuria?" Vaan asked.

"Manipulative shadowy beings who think themselves gods," Harry said. "I met one shadowing Vayne. Ironically, that Occuria is on our side, and by 'our side', I mean the actual people of Ivalice. Of course, Venat probably orchestrated this whole invasion of Dalmasca and Nabradia to start the process of removing the control of the Occuria from the world. So, ironically for causing us so much misery, Venat's trying to help us."

Vaan glared sullenly. "Even so, Vayne and Venat are responsible for my brother's demise."

"And Rasler. And my father," Ashe said quietly. "And so many other brave souls of Dalmasca and Nabradia. Revenge is a certainty, Balthier. It is how I go about it that I intend to shape."

"Then we'd better get a move on," Harry said. "It's still possible that Vayne and the Empire have informants in the Resistance. And Balthier, didn't you tell me once that the Empire have airships that can travel over Jagd?"

Balthier nodded. "My father's invention."

"Better that we don't stay in the open then," Harry said. "Not for long."

"I concur," Basch said, coming back over to them. "Harry, do you have one of those enchanted supply satchels?"

"Sure. Good haul?"

"We would need to take it back to Rabanastre for any use, but indeed, something of a bounty. Feathers for the fletching of arrows, meat for supplies, even a Rainbow Egg that can be used to create Potions."

"Excellent," Ashe said. "Harry?"

The boy nodded, and as he plucked an enchanted bag from his own satchel and went over to the carcass, Vossler came back over. "We will have to make haste. If we are to secure the Dawn Shard and Raithwall's greatest treasure…"

"We will, Vossler," Ashe said reassuringly, though she didn't seem to feel it herself. "And it seems that Balthier is doing this for more than fiscal gain."

Vossler scowled. He made little secret of his disdain for allowing sky-pirates access to the treasures within the Tomb of Raithwall. But before he could say anything, Harry came over, tossing a satchel over to Basch. "Done. Let's get out of the heat, shall we?"

* * *

Harry was soon regretting those words. They fought not one but two automated Demon Wall traps which they barely beat through a combination of magic, blows, and Quickenings, and dealing with the convoluted architecture and mechanisms of the Tomb. Oh, and they had to deal with assorted monsters, including a number of undead creatures.

After some hours of exploring, fighting off monsters, and triggering mechanisms, they were finally in a chamber filled with a dense concentration of Mist, images of the party writhing eerily through the air. "Is this fog?" Vaan asked.

"Not fog. Mist," Fran said.

"I thought the Mist was normally invisible," Vaan muttered, frowning.

"Well, when it's thick enough, you can see it anyway," Harry said.

Fran nodded. "The Nether runs deep in this place."

Harry frowned, remembering what Viera were like around Mist. They were very sensitive to it, and could even fall into a frenzy in the presence of too much Mist. "Fran, you're going to be alright, aren't you? I mean, in this concentrated Mist?"

Fran smiled. "I am used to places like this. However, should it be even greater still, then you may have cause for concern, Harry. In any case, while this may be dangerous, this concentration of Mist allows for the working of powerful Magicks."

They descended into the lower part of the chamber, which reminded Harry uncomfortably of an arena. Guarding a massive door was a bizarre creature that seemed to be two merged into one, a great beast with two heads (one set into the torso of the other) and two sets of arms. It wielded a massive, elaborate staff as, upon noticing the party, it attacked.

The following battle was longer than that against the Garuda-Egi. Noticing that it favoured fire-based attacks, they concentrated on water and ice-based attacks against it. Harry tried using Expelliarmus to take its staff away, but to no avail. Presumably the charm didn't work on the beast's staff.

Eventually, though, they defeated it, and it changed into a crystal of Magicite with an elaborate design, vaguely like the beast they fought, within.

" _In vainglory they arose, shouting challenges at the gods,_ " Fran recited as she and Harry healed the others. " _But prevail they did not. Their doom it was to walk the Mist until time's end_. A legend of the Nu Mou."

Harry frowned. "Hang a mo, I think I've read that. Old Ma'kenroh at Clan Centurio lent me a book once. Isn't that about the Espers, the Thirteen Zodiac Beasts? Sometimes known as the Lucavi?"

Fran nodded. "You are well-read, Harry."

"I get bored easily, and there's few TVs in this world," Harry said, as he healed Ashe. He felt…odd, about having his hands so close to her body. Okay, he was using Cure spells, but even so…well, she was an attractive young woman, after all. Of course, she was also a princess (albeit a fugitive one), and a widow, and so she was somewhat out of his reach.

All the same, she reminded him a little of some of the girls he knew. She had the fire in her soul that Ginny and Hermione had, along with Fleur's aloofness. He did feel attraction towards her, it's just that he didn't want to jeopardise their friendship by making any moves, especially as she still mourned Rasler. And Harry had liked Rasler too much to want to sully his memory.

Ashe nodded to Harry once he finished, and got to her feet. "I thank you," she said quietly and sincerely, before saying, louder, while Harry went over to tend to Vaan, "My family tells a story of the Dynast-King and an Esper, a mighty Gigas known as Belias. In his youth, Raithwall defeated Belias, and it was for this feat that the gods took heed of him. Thereafter, it was bound to him in thraldom."

"So, all this time, this Esper has been guarding the treasure?" Balthier asked.

Ashe went over to the Magicite that the Esper had become, and picked it up, pocketing it. "In a manner of speaking. Leaving aside the Dawn Shard, the greatest treasure in this tomb is Belias. Through this Esper, we certainly command great power, whose worth is beyond measure."

Balthier gave a wry smile. "Not that I am complaining about what we have found so far, princess, but I'm somewhat old-fashioned in my tastes in treasure." Then, his face became serious again. "We need to get the Dawn Shard as soon as possible."

* * *

In the chamber beyond, they found the Dawn Shard mounted in a special holder. It was spherical, but colourful and patterned. Ashe approached it, and touched it. Then, she saw something. So did Vaan and Harry.

Ashe saw Rasler.

Vaan saw Reks.

And Harry? He saw his mother.

The apparitions were blue and transparent. A ghost in appearance, come back from the dead. Ashe, shaken, plucked the Dawn Shard from its housing. "The dead of this war shall be avenged," she muttered as the ghosts faded. "I swear it."

* * *

"Did any of you see that?" Ashe asked once they left Raithwall's Tomb, used the Teleport Crystal, and were preparing to re-board the _Strahl_.

Most of them shook their heads. But Harry and Vaan nodded. "I saw my mother," Harry said.

"I saw my brother, Reks," Vaan said, frowning.

"And I saw Rasler," Ashe said. "How convenient that Venat's warning through Vayne is so accurate. Either Venat is the one pulling the strings rather than the Occuria, or Venat knows his brethren too well. Either way, we must be cautious."

"But why you three alone?" Basch asked. "Why not appear to all of us?"

"Good question," Balthier said. "If those phantoms were the work of the Occuria, why appear to Harry and Vaan as well as Ashe? Why not appear to all of us, or else just Ashe?"

Vossler nodded. "I too would like to know."

"Maybe it's a certain sensitivity to things," Harry mused. "There were creatures called Thestrals back home, a bit like a benign Nightmare(3), which you could only see if you had seen death and accepted it. Maybe there's a similar criteria, though I don't know what that is."

"That is a question that can wait. We have the Dawn Shard, and Belias. We're two steps closer to taking back my throne," Ashe said decisively…

* * *

Unfortunately, when they got back to Rabanastre, Vaan returned to Migelo's store, only to come back to Harry and Ashe with bad news. It seemed that Penelo had been kidnapped. And it had been by a Bangaa bounty hunter by the name of Ba'gamnan. The reason why? Balthier had given Penelo his handkerchief as a surety for Vaan's safe return. But Ba'gamnan mistook the altruistic gesture as a sign that Balthier knew the teenaged girl.

Migelo had a note from Ba'gamnan, demanding that Balthier face him in the Lhusu Mines in Bhujerba, on the Sky-Continent of Dorstonis, in exchange for Penelo's safety. And when Harry managed to find Balthier and Fran in the Sandsea, Balthier reluctantly admitted that Ba'gamnan had a grudge against him, involving a time when he had managed to swipe a bounty out from underneath the vicious Bangaa's snout. Balthier reluctantly agreed to take them to Bhujerba, them being Harry, Vaan, Ashe (who also intended to set the record straight with her uncle, Marquis Halim Ondore), and Basch.

It meant going into danger once more. But Harry had a saving people thing, as mentioned before. And Penelo had gotten dropped right into the middle of things…

 **CHAPTER 3 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, the Tomb of Raithwall, and Penelo gets kidnapped. Oh, and Ashe learns who Balthier really is, ahead of schedule.**

 **Review-answering time!** **plums** **: I agree. Out of the PS2** ** _Final Fantasy_** **games, I enjoy XII the best. I'm also contributing another crossover to this website at the same time as I post this, a more darkly comic work called** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **, which will ship Harry with Mjrn. Yes, you read that right. I wanted to give Harry a Viera love interest, and decided that Fran was taken and Jote had the big stick up her alimentary passage. As for your argument about the Occuria, well, see above. Ashe doesn't know who to believe, but is keeping an open mind…and a healthy degree of scepticism.**

 **jgkitarel** **: I thought Vayne a very interesting** ** _Final Fantasy_** **character in that his goal, while it doesn't justify the means, is actually quite a noble one (and for all his ruthlessness, he also has a major soft spot for his brother). Few** ** _Final Fantasy_** **villains are remotely as 'noble', with the only ones I can think of offhand both from** ** _Final Fantasy X_** **: Jecht became the Final Aeon in order to save Spira, and even as Sin, managed to hold enough of his humanity at times to help Tidus and company, while (debatably) Yu Yevon became Sin in order to save Zanarkand, albeit as a Fayth-dream, as well as to wreak revenge on Bevelle.**

 **Lupine Horror** **: Oh, was there? Shame. Oh well, maybe** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **can fill that gap. Okay, Harry's with Mjrn rather than Fran (I'm loathe to break up Balthier and Fran), but even so, it's a bit of Viera-shipping.**

 **1\. The capital of Rozarria is never named in the game, and I couldn't track it down, so I gave its name as Rozara.**

 **2\. A reference to a similar line in the game.**

 **3\. Nightmares are the type of enemies that are basically demon horses that teleport everywhere.**


	5. Chapter 4: Lamont, Lies, and Lhusu Mines

**CHAPTER 4:**

 **LAMONT, LIES, AND LHUSU MINES**

 _One aspect that the Lady Ashe and Lord Larsa had in common was a true desire to help others. Both had had the virtue of service to the very people they rule impressed into their very minds from the day they could understand such a concept. And despite being in precarious stations with treachery around every corner, they still managed to retain that virtue._

 _The Ghost of Dalmasca once spoke to me, derisively, of how his own mentor claimed love to be the greatest power of all. But it was Harry's friendship with Ashe, and Vayne's love for his brother, that helped Ashe and Larsa retain their virtue of service to their people. Why else would Ashe resolve to head to Bhujerba, but to save the fair Penelo? She would later confide that she did intend to have words with me regarding my position, and to determine the truth, on the advice of Vossler Azelas, but I also believe that she took issue to the plight of one of her subjects. A widow, but not a mother to a child, she nonetheless felt like a mother to her people, and heaven help those who challenge the wrath of a mother…_

 _Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, Chapter 15: A Meeting of Enemies and Friends._

As they came in to land at the Bhujerba Aerodrome, Harry looked at Vaan. "Now, remember, both Basch and Ashe are meant to be dead. You need to make sure you address neither of them by their real name. Same goes for Balthier. You call him Balthier, not by his birthname."

"Okay, okay, got it. So I call Ashe Amalia, right?" He then looked over at Basch, scowling slightly. "What do I call him?"

"Roland," Basch said(1). "It is the name I use when I walk abroad."

"Our faces are not well known to the populace of Ivalice at large," Ashe explained to Vaan, "but it is best that we do not draw attention to ourselves. Once we have found your friend, I intend to call on Ondore. But I intend to do so discreetly."

"Why not do it now?" Vaan asked. "I mean, I want to save Penelo, but why don't we split up?"

"Because, Vaan, Ashe noticed as well as many of us that Imperial Dreadnaught in the distance. The _Leviathan_ , I'd wager. The flagship of the Eighth Fleet, under the command of Judge Magister Ghis," Balthier explained. "I hear that Ondore, in order to keep the peace with the Empire, is secretly feeding them Magicite for Draklor. But he also helps fund many parts of the Resistance, according to further rumour. He is a man walking a tightrope. Better to get the errand with your friend out of the way before talking to Ondore, give Ghis a chance to say his piece and go away."

Harry frowned. "You knew the Judges, didn't you? Back when you were one of them. What were they like?"

"Hmm. Well, Ghis and Bergan are certainly the worst. Ghis is a consummate politician, ambitious and vicious. Smart as a whip, too. Bergan is bloodthirsty, but for all his talent in battle, he is also smarter than he seems. He just has no patience for politics, or morality for that matter. I never met Gabranth, as he was recruited after I abandoned my post. Zecht and Drace were probably the most honourable, actually believing in justice and the glory of Archadia. Zecht went missing after Nabudis. He either died, or deserted. Zargabaath is more like Zecht and Drace, but he's more pragmatic and politically savvy." Balthier stood from his pilot seat, and the adventurers left.

* * *

There were a number of Archadian soldiers running about, apparently searching for someone. As they exited the Aerodrome, Balthier said, "The Lhusu Mines are just past the city. We'll head there now."

"You're on your way to the Lhusu Mines? Then may I ask to accompany you? I've an errand to attend to there." The speaker was a boy of about twelve, with dark hair running down to his neck. His clothing was, while practical, apparently expensive. His eyes seemed rather old for his age.

"What matter of errand do you intend to attend to?" Ashe asked.

"I might ask the same of you," the boy asked.

"Well, come on then," Balthier said. "But do me a favour, and kindly stay where I can keep my eye on you. It should be less trouble that way."

"For us both. I am Lamont."

"Harry," Harry said, before indicating the others. "This is Amalia, Vaan, Roland, Balthier, and Fran."

"Well met," Lamont said, nodding. "Shall we?"

* * *

They moved through the city swiftly, and soon came to the Lhusu Mines. "The Lhusu Mines," Ashe murmured. "One of the richest Magicite mines in all of Ivalice."

"Under Imperial guard, no doubt," Basch remarked.

"Not true," Lamont said. "With but few exceptions, the Imperial Army is not permitted within Bhujerba."

"Officially, anyway," Harry remarked. "Ondore probably buys his neutrality."

As they descended into the mines, they saw a party of people coming down the passageway ahead of them, so they dashed for cover, hoping they hadn't been spotted. Thankfully, two of their number were engrossed in a conversation.

Harry watched from hiding as the group of six people emerged. Three of them were Archadian soldiers, one of whom was a Judge Magister. He wore a blue cape over his elaborate armour, and a horned helmet. His voice was a cultured rasp, enhanced by the helmet he wore. The other three included two leonine Revs, and a Hume, tall, dignified, and old, using a walking stick. Ashe, who was right next to Harry, whispered, "That's Ondore."

"You will forgive my asking, but you are making sure that the purest of the Magicite…?" the Judge began.

Ondore interjected. "Yes. I can assure you it reaches Lord Vayne most discreetly."

The Judge scoffed. "You wear your saddle well, Marquis."

"Be that as it may, Your Honour, I have no intention of being bridled."

"Then you would prefer the whip?" the Judge asked. "Stubbornness is a fool's errand that will see you and Bhujerba broken, Marquis." They then continued out of the Mines.

Harry and the others made their way out of hiding. "So that was Ondore? And which Judge was that?" Harry asked.

"Ghis," Lamont said. "Marquis Ondore served as an impartial mediator for the negotiations of Dalmasca's surrender. His neutrality seems to be in question now."

"Rumour has it that he helps the Resistance," Balthier remarked.

"Rumour says many things," Lamont said.

"And you are very well informed," Balthier said. "Who are you again?"

Vaan broke in impatiently. "It doesn't matter, we need to find Penelo!"

"We're here to track down Vaan's friend," Harry explained to Lamont. "She was kidnapped by a Bangaa called Ba'gamnan and held hostage here."

"If you speak truly, then you have my sword, for the time being," Lamont said.

* * *

As they moved deeper into the mines, Harry slapped his forehead. "Crap, I just realised something."

"What?" Ashe asked.

Harry fumbled for his wand. "Can't believe I was so stupid not to try this. Ba'gamnan might have deceived us, she might not even be in the mines, or even alive. But this spell might be able to help. Did Ba'gamnan say where we were supposed to be?"

"The note said Digging Site 2," Vaan said. They had bought a map.

Harry then cast the spell, holding his wand flat in his hand. "Point Me, Penelo." The wand spun around…and was shifting continuously, even as it slowed. His eyes flickered over to the map. "Good news is, she's probably alive. Bad news is, she's not at Site 2. Gimme a moment. Point Me, Ba'gamnan." When the wand shifted, he nodded. "Okay, looks like Ba'gamnan's cut her loose, and is waiting to ambush us at Site 2. So Penelo's still alive, in all likelihood."

"Site 2 is where I intend to go," Lamont said.

"I'll go to Penelo," Vaan said.

"I'll come with you," Harry said. "You'll need me to find her. Do you guys think that you can handle dealing with Ba'gamnan by yourselves?"

Ashe gave a grim smile. "Need you ask? Harry…be careful."

* * *

As they looked for Penelo, Vaan asked, "Harry, how did you know Ashe in the first place?"

"Woke up sprawled in the middle of the Palace Gardens," Harry said. "You might find it hard to believe, Vaan, but I come from another world entirely. I may sound like I'm Archadian, but back home, it's a British accent. Dalmascans sound American, though Ashe sounds rather posh. Anyway, there, magic is hidden, and is used differently."

"How did you come to be here?" Vaan asked. "I mean, if you really are from another world…"

"Let's just say that I got stupid while trying to save my godfather. I mean, I miss my friends, and I always keep an eye out for a way to head back home, but, well, I get the feeling I can't go back. The Occuria found a way to go to my world, apparently, but if they are behind these events, then I'd rather die than ask for their help. I have you and Penelo as friends, not to mention Ashe, Basch, Balthier and Fran. Oh, and Clan Centurio."

"Yeah, I joined the morning before the parade on Tomaj's advice," Vaan said. "Montblanc said you told him about me."

Harry cast the spell again. Penelo, it seemed, was close by. "Yeah, well, leaving aside Dalan calling you Vaan Ratsbane, you're pretty good in a fight. Your brother taught you quite a bit. And Clan Centurio is about more than hunting dangerous monsters. That's why I asked Montblanc recently whether I could recommend you. Montblanc decided to tell Tomaj to direct you to an easy Mark. Wait, she's nearly here."

And true enough, around the corner, Penelo came jogging, panting in both exhaustion and fear. "Vaan? Harry? What are you two doing here?"

"Rescuing you," Harry said. "Did Ba'gamnan do anything to you?"

"Other than lock me up and scare the life out of me?" Penelo scowled. "Thankfully, not much. But where's Balthier and Fran?"

"They've gone to confront Ba'gamnan along with some friends," Harry said. "I had a spell that could find you. Come on, let's get out of these mines. We can wait for them there."

* * *

Unfortunately, things were far from that simple. A group of Imperial soldiers caught them, and Judge Ghis confronted them, Ondore standing nearby. Ghis didn't even allow them to speak, shouting at them to remain silent. Harry cast an 'Expelliarmus' on their swords, and then glared at Ghis. "Maybe you'll be reasonable? I'm sure the Marquis does not want trouble on his land. This girl was kidnapped by the bounty hunter Ba'gamnan. We are her friends. We came to save her."

"Even so, your appearance is more than a little suspicious, considering it coincides with the disappearance of Lord Larsa," Ghis said.

"Wait…Larsa, describe him," Harry said, getting a sudden bad feeling.

"How could you not know?"

"I know of his name, not his face. Describe him."

"A boy of a dozen years, with dark hair reaching his neck, and dressed in fine clothing. Dark-eyed."

"Oh, shit, that explains it," Harry groaned, slapping his forehead.

"What?" Vaan demanded.

"I think 'Lamont' was Larsa," Harry said. He then looked at Ghis. "He wanted to investigate something in the mines for himself." He placed his wand in his hand, and said, "Point Me, Larsa." The wand moved to the entrance, and began moving slightly. "Yeah, he's nearly here."

"I hope for your sake that he is," Ghis responded, "or I will have your head."

The Marquis approached. "There will be no executions here without my say-so, Your Honour. Judge Magisters have no jurisdiction on Bhujerba."

Lamont, or rather, Larsa came running up the stairs from the Lhusu Mines. "I see you've been walking without your cortege, Lord Larsa," Ghis observed dryly. "We caught these ones wandering out of the mines. You should take better care with such undesirables lurking about."

Larsa shook his head. "I found this group wanting to save this girl. You are Penelo, am I correct?" On Penelo's nod, Larsa turned to Ghis. "These two split from the group I was with to find the girl. The others had to fight a Bangaa by the name of Ba'gamnan, along with Ba'gamnan's fellow brigands."

"Are they all right?" Harry asked.

"Yes. I would thank you to hold your tongue, Ghis. If wandering on one's own is a crime, then I too am guilty," Larsa said, rebuking the Judge Magister mildly. He then turned to Ondore. "Marquis Ondore, I trust you can accommodate a few more guests?"

"Of course," Ondore said, nodding.

* * *

Later, in the drawing room of the Marquis' estate, Larsa was writing a letter. Vaan and Penelo were sitting on a couch, while Harry sat on a chair, reading. "So you're Vayne's brother?" Harry asked, looking up from his book.

"Indeed. Though I am troubled. Your friend, the sky-pirate Balthier, he seemed unusually interested in my own interest in manufactured Nethicite. I am sure he suspected who I truly was," Larsa said. He looked up, and looked at Vaan and Penelo. "You seem suspicious of me."

"Larsa, leaving aside the fact that you gave us a false name, you're also one of the top people in the Archadian Empire," Harry said. "Vaan and Penelo lost family and friends during the invasion of Nabradia and Dalmasca. They fear and hate the Empire, and with good reason."

Larsa blinked, startled by the revelation, before he left his letter, and went over to Vaan and Penelo. "Listen to me, please. The men of my family are taught to place the needs of others before our own. I will do my utmost to keep you from harm. It is my duty to House Solidor."

Vaan looked sceptical, and Penelo looked slightly dubious. "How can we trust you?" Penelo asked.

"Because I give you my word. My brother would do no less," Larsa said.

"Larsa, your brother is already a fratricide twice over," Harry remarked. "From all accounts, I heard he loves you. But he is also a ruthless man. And ruthless men can't afford to keep promises. Don't get me wrong, I think you're being sincere. But you don't know what is going on here."

"And you do? Then please, tell me," Larsa said.

"I only know some things. A comrade of mine is the Ghost of Dalmasca, and he told me that your brother and Doctor Cid know many things about Nethicite. Vayne may seek to shield you from his plan. But his interest is in things that, while they may be better for Ivalice, may not be good for the people of Dalmasca. My loyalty is to Dalmasca and its people. I don't view you as an enemy, Larsa, but I do view your brother as one. He has hurt many good friends of mine through his actions and plotting, including Vaan. What the Ghost had learned from Vayne, I will consider. But neither Archades nor Rozarria care about Dalmasca getting caught up in the crossfire, no matter what you think. And I've heard about your little friendship with Al-Cid Margrace, Larsa. Do you think either your father or the ruler of Rozarria will give a shit about peace? Never mind Vayne?"

"I may not be as learned in the ways of the world as some, Harry," Larsa said, glaring at Harry with surprising force, "but I am not a fool. I am almost certain, for example, that Amalia is none other than Lady Ashe, and that Roland is actually Captain Basch. A princess and a traitor, both supposedly dead, keeping company with a Viera, a sky-pirate, a Dalmascan orphan, and you. You speak with an Archades accent, and yet, you hold Lady Ashe's ear. You certainly know far more than you're telling. And you use a magic that I have never seen before. You look young, but your eyes and manner are like that of a seasoned soldier, haunted and hard. I may not know everything, but do not mistake me for being blind, sir! I see more than you think I do."

The silence that followed was thankfully broken by the door opening, and the Marquis coming through. "Lord Larsa, Ghis requires your presence on the _Leviathan_. They are departing for Rabanastre ere long."

"Thank you, Marquis," Larsa said, going over and taking his letter off the desk. "For your message, and your hospitality both. I considered bringing these three with me under my protection, but I will leave them here for their friends to come back for them. Can I leave them under your protection?"

Ondore gave a slight bow. "Of course."

Harry, however, didn't like the thought of being in the home of the Marquis for too long. The man seemed to be a master manipulator. If it was true that he funded the Resistance as well as giving Magicite to the Archadian Empire, did that mean the man could be at all truly trusted?

 **CHAPTER 4 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **The events at Bhujerba going somewhat differently than in the game. And the next chapter will be the beginning of much stronger Ashe/Harry shipping.**

 **Now, I know I've gotten a few more reviews since I posted Chapter 3, but sadly, this website won't let me access my latest reviews. Not since I posted the latest chapters. So, hopefully, once this issue is resolved, I will answer them. Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **1\. According to the Final Fantasy Wiki, the 'Ronsen' part of 'Ronsenburg' means 'son of Roland'. That's why I chose that as Basch's alias.**


	6. Chapter 5: Confessions

**CHAPTER 5:**

 **CONFESSIONS**

 _While Harry understandably dallied in mustering the courage to say that he loved Ashe, it was Her Majesty who made the first move. I am honoured that the first true step towards their love was made on my humble estate. I understand that I have Fran, the Viera consort of Balthier, to thank for giving Ashe the courage to confess her feelings._

 _But even such a confession is but the first step on a path many have faltered on. Little different was Ashe and Harry's courtship._

 _Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, Chapter 19: Love Across Boundaries_

About an hour after Larsa left, Ashe, Basch, Balthier and Fran all entered, with the Marquis in tow. Whatever qualms Ashe had had about talking to her honorary uncle had apparently been quashed, because Ashe looked far less wary than she had for some time. When she saw Harry and the others, she actually smiled with no bitterness or grimness, just relief and happiness, and considering how rarely she did smile in such a way of late, it was certainly something to treasure. "You are well?" she asked.

"Yeah. Lamont, well, Larsa helped save our hides with Ghis," Harry said. "He may just be the ally we need in the Archadian camp, but he's still naïve. He suspects who you and Basch really are, though."

"Lord Larsa sees far for a child his age," Ondore said. "As you say, he is still naïve, but certainly less than many of his age, or even twice or thrice that age. He is certainly wise beyond his years." He looked to Ashe, and said, "Ashe, I must beg for your forgiveness for what happened two years ago."

Ashe nodded. "I understand, uncle. Harry bade me begin preparations to flee, contingent upon hearing word from either Basch or Vossler of my father's demise. Vossler came back with the news of Basch's apparent treachery, and…together, we fled. There was still time before Vayne's search spread, and Vossler and I believed that you could protect me."

"Until Vayne suggested that I make the announcement of your suicide, and of Basch's execution." His eyes flickered over to Basch. "You were the unseen sword he had hanging over my head to ensure my loyalty." His eyes returned to Ashe's. "I was reluctant, but acceded, not discerning that his true motives were to drive a wedge between us. He suspected your survival."

"And he suspects it still," Harry said.

Ondore turned to face Harry. "You seem well-informed. You speak with the tongue of an Archadian merchant, but you hold the ear of Her Majesty as much as Basch or Azelas would."

"This is Harry Potter," Basch said.

"My left hand," Ashe added. She shot Harry a look that said _We can trust Ondore_.

Ondore caught the implication immediately. He looked at Harry with renewed respect. "The Ghost of Dalmasca," he breathed.

Vaan and Penelo stared. "Wait, what? I thought those who saw the face of the Ghost died!" Vaan protested.

Harry emitted a sinister chuckle. "Is that a request, Vaan?"

"Please, no bloodshed in my drawing room," Ondore said. "Blood is such a persistent stain to remove. So, you know about Vayne's intentions because you are a spy? I am surprised that Her Majesty didn't order you to kill Vayne."

"If Vayne were to be killed, what of Dalmasca?" Harry asked. "What would happen in retribution? And by talking to the smug bastard, we actually learned some interesting information. How much of it is true, and how much of it fiction, I don't know, but what we do know paints a frightening picture…"

* * *

It was only because Ashe trusted Ondore enough to speak to him that Harry divulged what he had learned from Vayne and Venat. Balthier confirmed he knew of Venat, though he wouldn't say how. He clearly didn't trust the Marquis enough either.

"A fantastical tale," Ondore mused. "But in many of the books in my library, even beyond talk of gods, there are allusions to puppetmasters of Ivalice, known as the Undying Ones. And there has been one tale, deemed heretical by the Dynast-King himself, that he was little more than a puppet of would-be gods, and the Deifacted Nethicite were the strings." He turned back to Ashe. "You have the Dusk Shard and the Dawn Shard. What step would you take next?"

His eagerness seemed disturbing to Harry, and to Ashe. However, Ashe said, "The Gran Kilitias at Bur-Omisace. While I do not need my claim recognised publicly yet, lest I draw unwanted attention from Archades or Rozarria, he may know things about the Dynast-King's legacy that we do not. My intent is to secure Dalmasca's power before we announce my survival publicly. In any case, I am sure the Occuria will want me to learn more about my legacy ere I take action, and I intend to play along to their script for the time being."

"But with the Deifacted Nethicite…" Ondore began, only for Ashe to glare at her uncle.

"With them, I would only create another Necrohol, like Nabudis," she said coldly. "I would gladly kill Vayne and Gramis Solidor, and their decrepit Senate, for what they did to our people. But I will not inflict the mass of instant slaughter on Archades that was inflicted on Nabudis, not unless I truly have no other choice. I will target the blackened hearts and minds of those who wage war, not people sleeping in their beds. The Nethicite will be a sword hanging over our enemies' heads, not unlike what Basch was to you. It is a sword that must not fall until it is necessary." She looked back at Fran. "In addition, Fran suggested that I consult the Garif at Jahara. Their Magicite lore is unrivalled in Ivalice."

Ondore digested this, before he nodded. "So you do not intend to sit idle, but have your own path that you intend to follow. I once knew a girl whose only wish was to be carried in her uncle's arms. Your Majesty is a woman grown now. And set upon her own path." Ondore turned away. "What do you need from me?"

"Other than Bhujerba's support when I finally come forward? Only your silence on our survival," Ashe said, indicating Basch. "Of course, it is in your interest to speak naught of either of us. I intend to regroup and rest within Rabanastre for a few days, before setting out for Jahara. In addition, I want to return Vaan and Penelo to their homes before we set out on this venture."

Vaan glared. "Hey, no fair! I got dragged into your trip to Raithwall's Tomb, because I saw too much! Penelo got taken by Ba'gamnan because Balthier was nice to her. We're already involved! And Penelo's stronger than she looks, she's pretty good in a fight. Those idiots just ambushed her, that's all!"

"Like Vaan said, we're already involved, Ashe!" Penelo protested. "We want to help Dalmasca too!"

Basch folded his arms and looked at the two. "Are your hearts truly resolved on this matter? We are not playing at soldiers. This is in very deadly earnest. The first act of this farce cost your brother his life, Vaan, and I would not have your death or that of Penelo on my conscience. I don't doubt your capability in combat. But this is more than raiding a tomb or venturing into mines to face a common mercenary. We may have to fight the most powerful of monsters, or parts of the Archadian Empire's army."

Harry nodded. "We're facing adversaries that make that Esper tame by comparison, Vaan, never mind the rats of Garamsythe. One missed step could be the very spark that ignites the flames of war. So, no pressure."

"If you're trying to scare us away, you're not doing a good job," Vaan said, folding his arms defiantly, matching Basch's posture and stern glare. Penelo nodded.

Balthier raised an eyebrow, and remarked, "Well, it seems that you are not going to be rid of them so easily, Princess."

"Indeed," Ashe said with a wry smile. "Very well. But Vaan, Penelo, I expect you to follow the orders of myself or one of my aides. I know you have history with Basch, Vaan. I do too, but I have come to give him the benefit of the doubt regarding his role in my father's demise, and that of your brother. I intend to honour Reks' sacrifice. If you two do intend to fight for Dalmasca's future, then I will be doing so alongside you. And I intend to fight for more than a memory or a kingdom."

There was something about the way she said that that had Harry curious. Ondore noticed too, for he said, "Your Majesty has a personal stake beyond revenge and Dalmasca's restoration."

"You see many things, uncle," Ashe said. "I came to a realisation at Raithwall's Tomb. Revenge, once fulfilled, will wither and scatter on the wind. A kingdom is a responsibility and a burden both, one I have every intention of shouldering. But I needed something more to drive me." Her eyes flickered briefly towards Harry, before her gaze returned to Ondore.

Harry frowned. Surely that was a mistake? He had mistaken what she just did?

Ondore merely hummed slightly in contemplation, before nodding. "Be my guest overnight, Your Majesty. Then, return to Rabanastre with my blessing, so that you may embark on the next stage of your journey…"

* * *

The old nightmares came back to Harry that night. Of his parents' death. Of his servitude in the Dursleys thanks to Dumbledore's idiocy. Of the troll and Quirrellmort. Of the Diary and the Basilisk. Of the Dementors and Remus, turned into a berserk werewolf. Of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the whispers and the lies, when the only friend who stood by him was Hermione. Of the duel with Voldemort in the graveyard, and Cedric's death. Of the lies in the Daily Prophet, and Ron and Hermione kowtowing to Dumbledore's will. Of Dementors in Surrey, and Dolores Umbridge. Of Snape's so-called Occlumency lessons, and Dumbledore telling him fuck all. And finally, of the battle in the Department of Mysteries, where his attempt to save Sirius led to him falling through the Veil instead. The pain in his scar had been overwhelming. He felt like he had died. In fact, he was told that he needed a Phoenix Down when they found him in the Palace Gardens. No more nightmares of what Voldemort did, and his scar was fading.

But the nightmares of what had happened never quite went away. And neither did his guilt at leaving Magical Britain behind. Oh, he could live with it: he hadn't been on the best of terms with Dumbledore during that year, and there were many people he was glad to see the back of, like Snape, the Malfoys, Umbridge, and of course, Voldemort and his lackeys. But Ron, Hermione, Ginny, the twins, Luna, Neville, Remus, Sirius…he missed them.

He left his bedroom, and wandered into the gardens of the estate. He soon realised he wasn't alone, for Ashe and Fran were also present, seated on a stone bench, talking to each other.

"…but leaving the Wood is a bereavement of its own kind," Fran was saying. "Fifty years it has been since I have departed Eruyt Village. Sorrow and solitude were my rewards."

"Were they your _sole_ rewards?" Ashe asked. "You are very close to Balthier."

"Indeed I am," Fran said. "But he is a Hume, and one day, he will wither away and die. Regardless, I will treasure the time we have together. And you are right. Sorrow and solitude were not my sole rewards. The time you spent with Rasler, you treasure, because he brought you happiness. His end brought you sorrow at too young an age, but you also treasure him and his memory. You cannot replace one you have loved, Ashelia. But you cannot let his memory manipulate you, either. I did not witness the spectres you, Vaan, and Harry beheld, but I did sense a disturbance in the Mist down there. Something eldritch and powerful. Be loyal to his memory, but Rasler ranks amongst the legions of the dead. Harry is amongst the living."

Harry froze. Were they talking about him?

"I know. I have my duty, Fran, to my people. It is hard to think of luxuries like friendship when one is a fugitive, and in one's own home no less. But his counsel ranks amongst the wisest I have heard, and from one my own age. He has gone through much hardship, too much even for his age. He was servant to his own relatives for a decade, and they were not of a class to afford servants. He was targeted for death by a brutal warlock from the day of his birth. Every year that he attended the magic school he learned at, he had to deal with peril of some sort, far beyond what he should have expected at his station. I am royalty, I have to expect plots against me. But Harry should not have." Ashe sighed gently. "I know him, Fran. He would not dare approach me, because he dare not defile the memory of Rasler. The two were friends, and he respects his memory as much as he respects me."

"Perhaps you need to make the first move, Ashelia," Fran said. "I certainly did with Balthier. For all his flirting and his silver tongue, it took him a while to move beyond friendship and partnership to something more. To make Harry into Rasler's substitute is a fool's errand, but he still holds a place in your heart. All you have to do is tell him. You know he has feelings for you."

"Yes. At Raithwall's Tomb, I saw the way he looked at me. There was desire, and sadness, and self-reproach. He thought he hid it, but I saw it all the same. He believes me unattainable."

"Then tell him otherwise." Fran's rabbit-like ears twitched, and then, she said, "You may have to tell him less than you think." She turned around on the bench to look at Harry. Ashe followed her lead, and gaped at Harry.

"Ummm…" Harry began.

Fran merely raised an eyebrow. "How much did you hear?"

"Since you spoke of leaving Eruyt fifty years ago," Harry said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "Ashe…"

"Harry…not another word. I don't know for certain whether what I feel for you is love. There are scars on my heart from Rasler's passing. But…I think it might be. You have been there for me for four years. I am not discarding or defiling the memory of Rasler…indeed, I would think that he would want us to be content and happy. Both of us." She stood, and began walking back into the estate. "We will talk more on this later, Harry." And with that, she was gone, leaving him in utter shock, and feelings he had tried his utmost to deny came crashing through.

"She has good taste in partners," Fran said, walking by him. "So too do you. She needs you to help her heal. Be there for her. I know you would do no less." And then, she too was gone, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

And chief amongst them? Clamouring for attention above all others? It was the revelation that Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca, deposed princess of Dalmasca, may love him.

He would not be able to sleep at all that night, not because of nightmares, but because of that most shocking revelation. After all, despite it being such a cliché of fantasy, falling in love with a princess, and having her reciprocate, didn't really happen in reality…

 **CHAPTER 5 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And there you have it: Ashe admitting her feelings to Harry. Hope you enjoyed that.**

 **Review-answering time! Need to catch up thanks to the blip mentioned in the prior chapter. Anyway, let's start and finish with** **Jostanos** **: Shame about your PS2.** ** _Final Fantasy XII_** **is my personal favourite of the PS2** ** _Final Fantasy_** **games. I'm glad my rendition gives you such enjoyment, though.**

 **No numbered annotations.**


	7. Chapter 6: Invitation to Danger

**CHAPTER 6:**

 **INVITATION TO DANGER**

 _Vayne Solidor was a man of manifold contradictions, though he was far from the only man to be populated by such things. The epitome of erudition and etiquette, he nonetheless violated many of the truisms of honour on the battlefield and of treaties. A fratricide twice over, he nonetheless loved his youngest brother (and Larsa was mayhap the only thing Vayne ever truly loved)._

 _Nobody who has known the man personally can think of him without conflict. Vayne has been this age's biggest warmonger, ironically enough, debatably its greatest saviour both. He was both our enemy, and yet our greatest ally against the Occuria, save for Venat himself._

 _Perhaps the best thing you could say about Vayne Solidor was that, in the end, he viewed himself as expendable as those he manipulated or sacrificed for what he perceived to be a greater good. The Ghost of Dalmasca would later compare him to his own mentor, and find the connection disconcerting…_

 _-Memoirs of Marquis Halim Ondore IV, Chapter 10: The Man Who Would Cut the Strings…_

The next afternoon, in Rabanastre, Harry was walking through the streets, deep in thought. Ashe, Basch and Vossler were currently organising their expedition to Jahara and to Bur-Omisace. Vaan and Penelo were catching up with Migelo. Fran and Balthier were working on the _Strahl_.

Last night's revelation felt unreal to Harry, as if they'd been part of a dream. Ashe felt something for him. More than friendship, possibly romantic love. They couldn't talk yet, given how Ashe was organising their next move, but she had promised to talk later.

But could he really wed a princess? He knew of the realities of royalty. He was a nobody, whereas marriages of someone like Ashe were frequently done for political reasons, like with Rasler. That Ashe and Rasler loved each other was a bonus. Harry didn't have the station to be Ashe's husband. Did he?

So caught up was he by those thoughts that he didn't notice the Archadian soldiers approaching until they were right next to him. The small, dark-haired figure of Larsa was nestled amongst them. "Is this the one, Lord Larsa?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Indeed," Larsa said. He looked at Harry. "My brother has extended an invitation for you to meet with him, Harry."

"And refusal isn't an option?" Harry sighed.

"My brother made that clear, as much as I detest such a thing."

"Can I send a message to my friends?"

"Of course. Dillen?"

"Yes, Lord Larsa. What is your message, and to whom?" one of the soldiers said, stepping forward.

"I want you to go to Migelo's Sundries, please, and talk to either Vaan or Penelo. Failing that, leave the message with Migelo himself, and nobody else. Tell them that Vayne has requested my presence, and that they need to tell Roland and his friends," Harry said.

"Very well," Dillen said, nodding, and leaving.

"Captain Dillen is a good man," Larsa observed. "There are more of those than you think stationed in Rabanastre."

"I know there are decent Archadians here," Harry said. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

Vayne was in his office (once the office of the Royal Castellan of Rabanastre, Harry noted with annoyance) when Larsa arrived, speaking to Judge Ghis, who was currently helmetless. The aquiline features framed by immaculately coiffed greying hair made him look both slightly ridiculous, but also intimidating. Balthier had said that Ghis was a consummate politician, and you could see it in his glinting eyes.

"…is all. Putting too much pressure on Ondore may lead to him deciding to back the Resistance wholeheartedly. An oft-abused mule will in all likelihood kick out at a hard driver," Vayne said to Ghis. He looked up when Harry, Larsa, and their escort arrived. "Ghis, you may go. Larsa, I will speak to you in your study ere long. I will speak to Harry alone."

The Judge Magister left, though not before favouring Harry with a Malfoy-like glare. Soon, Harry was alone in the room with Vayne. The young man looked at him, before saying, "We meet again, Ghost of Dalmasca." As Harry opened his mouth to protest, Vayne interjected, "Please do not insult me with a denial. Larsa said you claimed to be a friend of the Ghost, but given that you accompanied Ashe and Basch to Bhujerba, then it is not at all unreasonable to suspect you of being the Ghost. In any case, Venat described you to me, lest we met again with you uncloaked."

Harry closed his mouth abruptly, before saying, "Is Venat with you?"

"Venat has decided to accompany Doctor Cid from now on. Our work is nearing completion, and Venat wishes to witness the final stages of putting the reins of history back into the hands of mortals."

Harry sat down in the chair opposite Vayne, before saying, "Rather convenient that Venat knew a spectre of Rasler would appear to Ashe. You can see that means Venat is as suspicious as the Occuria you talk of."

"I would prefer a suspicious mind to one who falls into the Occurian web with blinkered gaze," Vayne responded evenly. "So she has seen Rasler, and is cautious?"

"She wasn't the only one to see a spectre. I did too, a wraith of my mother. And so did one of my friends. He saw his brother."

"That would most likely be that Dalmascan pickpocket Vaan," Vayne remarked. "I know Balthier has no brother, and Basch's sole brother yet lives. Captain Azelas lost family, but he doesn't seem the sort to see phantoms."

"You know Vaan hates you for orchestrating his brother's death. Reks was the witness you chose when you had Basch's twin murder Raminas," Harry said with a scowl.

"I am familiar with being hated. Being loved, truly loved, is something of a novelty. I only receive such affection from my brother. It is for his sake particularly that I do this, wading through blood so that he may keep himself clean," Vayne said.

"How touching, considering that it's Dalmascan blood you're currently wading through," Harry retorted.

"Harry, I understand your upset. But these are necessities, required to set Ivalice back on the right path. If Fortune smiles upon us, Dalmasca shall not fall in the process."

"Fortune has a bad habit of flipping me the bird," Harry snarked back. "Is there any particular reason you asked me here? If it's about our plans, they're frankly none of your business."

"Actually, they are my business. I can make some reasoned guesses anyway, with or without your input," Vayne said. "But that was not my purpose. I wanted to get the measure of Harry Potter, the Ghost of Dalmasca, stripped of pretence. I must confess, I am not disappointed. A shame that by necessity, we are on opposing sides. There was another, perhaps more selfish reason I called for your presence."

"Which is what?"

"My brother wishes to find out more about Magicite and Nethicite," Vayne said bluntly. "I am aware of the Garif's knowledge of them, and that Jahara would be one of Ashe's next ports of call, in all likelihood. He also intends to visit his fellow peacemonger Al-Cid Margrace at Bur-Omisace, and I know that Ashe will head there ere long. While my brother is no innocent or fool, he still requires knowledge, and the wit to use it, and he is determined to learn things for himself. He spoke well of you and your company, and therefore, I will entrust him to your care. You must know, though, that as a hostage, he is of little use. One thing that unites myself, my father, and the Senate, would be that we would do anything to reclaim Larsa, and in return for his slaying, we would put Rabanastre to the sword."

"Great, we'll have to play babysitter," Harry snarked. "Don't get me wrong, I like Larsa, and he's pretty good in a fight, but this is going to add further pressure on Ashe."

"Ah, the burdens of command," Vayne said with a sardonic smile on his face. "I will send a message to Balthier and Fran, and send Larsa their way until you are ready. I am aware of who Balthier was. I envy his resolve to take charge of his future. And for all the man's apparent carefree ways, he is also a very intelligent rogue." Vayne stood, and walked to the door, opening it. "I shall not detain you a moment longer, Harry Potter."

Harry walked over to the door, and then paused, looking over at Vayne. "They want you dead, you know. Once this farce with the Occuria is over, and there's a certainty that neither Dalmasca or Archadia will suffer, Ashe will want your life."

"I would have it no other way. I'm willing to die to see my plan through, and to have my brother rule without having to worry about so many enemies both without and within. Ashe has no objection to Larsa being in charge?"

"She's taking a wait and see approach," Harry responded. "Goodbye."

* * *

Harry didn't go straight to the Resistance hideout. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that Vayne or Ghis or someone else had set a tail on him to watch where he went. And he was worried about the reaction that Ashe or Vossler would have upon learning about his conversation with Vayne. So, instead, he went to the Aerodrome, and to Fran and Balthier.

Balthier and Fran, at least, didn't judge him, and sent word for Ashe or Basch to pick him up. As the Moogle mechanics did their maintenance to the _Strahl_ , Balthier remarked, "Playing babysitter to a prince again? Well, Larsa can certainly hold his own in battle, as can Ashe. Ba'gamnan and his brood fled when he realised we were no pushovers. But it also means that we have a sword hanging over our heads, just as Ashe and Basch are swords over Ondore's. And no doubt some of the Resistance would think that holding Larsa to ransom would be a good idea."

"Which it isn't," Harry said. "Vayne made that clear. And I don't think he's a man who makes idle threats."

"Indeed not," Fran said. "But Larsa is also interested in stonelore?"

"So his brother claims."

"It doesn't surprise me," Balthier said. "He had Nethicite from Draklor Laboratories, manufactured by my father. I think Larsa is trying to discern what my father's obsession with Nethicite is. And Bhujerba isn't the Empire's only source. Near Jahara is the Henne Mines."

"It is passing through Golmore Jungle that fills me with anxiety," Fran admitted. "I have not graced the borders of the Wood for years, and I fear she will not be kind to outsiders, including myself. We may have to enter Eruyt ere we can get to Bur-Omisace."

"Great, so, on top of the Archadian Empire and a shitload of monsters, we've got a bloody forest against us," Harry groaned.

"Adventuring is never easy," Balthier said. "Those who believe otherwise find their careers, and often their lives, cut drastically short."

* * *

Sometime later, it was Ashe who came to the Aerodrome, and to the _Strahl_. She looked angry, and Harry braced himself for the inevitable berating, shutting his eyes.

So when she hugged him, it was most unexpected. In fact, she had very rarely hugged him before, so to have it done was a surprise. "Harry…" she said quietly, "please do not scare me like that ever again. Already, there are whispers in the Resistance when Vaan came to us."

"It's okay, Ashe. Vayne just wanted to talk. Oh, and he wants us to babysit Larsa while we head to Jahara and Bur-Omisace," Harry said.

Ashe scowled, before pacing the cockpit of the _Strahl_ , or as much as she could in the cramped space. "What did he say to you?"

Harry told her, leaving out nothing. Once he had finished, Ashe sat down on one of the chairs. "Vayne seems to be so many steps ahead of us, it is no laughing matter. And we cannot trust him not to interfere."

"He thinks that as long as we oppose the Occuria, it doesn't matter to him one way or the other," Harry said. "Don't get me wrong, I don't really trust him either. He's doing this for his own reasons. But he's also got a sort of perverse honesty. I'd be more worried about Judge Ghis."

"A fair point," Balthier said. "If Ghis did witness Vayne bringing in Harry, then some very nasty wheels would turn in his head. Ghis is certainly the viper of the Judges. Patient, calm, calculating, and utterly ruthless. Keep an eye on Vayne to be sure, but it's Ghis who is a more present danger."

Ashe nodded. "We will discuss this further later. Harry, come with me. We intend to change hideouts ere long, just in case. The Resistance will move once we leave for Jahara, in case Vayne or some other Archadian faction decide to attack."

* * *

Not long afterwards, they left, taking backstreets to avoid any Archadians, before heading to Lowtown, and from Lowtown to the hideout. They arrived to find Vossler and Basch in the middle of an argument. "…you like about me, but Harry has risked much!" Basch declared. "You have worked with him for longer as part of the Resistance, Vossler!"

"True, but one does not walk through dangerous territory with a blindfold, Basch!" Vossler retorted. "We are…" He turned to find Ashe looking at him. "Lady Ashe, I…"

"Quiet yourself, Vossler," Ashe said. "And you too, Basch. I have spoken to Harry, and it seems that Vayne has decided to give us an extra leash. He is sending Larsa with us to Jahara, as Larsa is curious about the Nethicite. Larsa also intends to meet with Al-Cid Margrace at Bur-Omisace. We are intending to make sure that we do not go into this blindly. And Vossler, while caution is laudable, I would no sooner consider Harry a traitor than I would consider you to be one. It is Vayne and his Occurian ally that we should be truly worried about."

"Lady Ashe, can Harry be truly trusted?" Vossler protested. "For some reason, Vayne seems to favour him! And…"

"I'd swear an oath on my life and magic," Harry snapped. "But I don't think you'd accept that. Take precautions, yes, question me, yes, but have I ever done anything that has truly caused problems for Ashe or Dalmasca? Rescuing Basch has brought us a new ally, as well as shed light on Raminas' death! Talking to Vayne has given us information confirmed by Balthier, and while I know you hate sky-pirates and Archadians, you can't deny his chivalry in helping us retrieve Penelo from Ba'gamnan. Actually, I've got a question for you, Vossler. Have you ever truly trusted me?" As Vossler tried to find the right words, he said, "Do you trust anyone? You were quick to consider Basch a traitor."

"You call me a traitor in turn?" Vossler demanded.

"No…only your thoughts. Your loyalty is to Dalmasca, that's not in doubt. But you don't trust anyone, I think. You're like an old teacher of mine, only worse," Harry concluded, thinking to Mad-Eye Moody, his paranoia and his bellowing of 'constant vigilance'.

"Enough of this," Ashe said. "We have an expedition to prepare." She then turned to Harry. "But if you wish to swear an oath, then do so."

Harry nodded, before taking out his wand. "I solemnly swear on my life and magic that I am not knowingly betraying Princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca or her people. May my magic and life be forfeit if I prove false. So mote it be." A flare of light surrounded Harry for a moment, before fading.

He hadn't convinced Vossler, he could tell that much. He had no idea what would convince him. But when he looked into the eyes of Ashe, he knew she hadn't needed convincing in the first place. And for that, he was glad. It was a loyalty he hoped he would never abuse…

 **CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Vayne plotting, and Vossler being (albeit understandably) paranoid. Next, Jahara, and more Harry/Ashe…**

 **Review-answering time!** **gord** **: It's necessary. A lot of the game's story was about Ashe unable to let go of the memory of Rasler, hence how the Occuria used his shade to manipulate her.**

 **No numbered annotations.**


	8. Chapter 7: Of Love and Nethicite

**CHAPTER 7:**

 **OF LOVE AND NETHICITE**

After a few days' preparation, Ashe and her expedition left Rabanastre, joined now by Larsa. The Resistance would shift to a new hideout, one which only Ashe and Vossler would know the location of. It took a few days' march across the now-inundated Giza Plains, and then to Ozmone Plains (it was thought that using the _Strahl_ to get to Jahara might attract undue attention). Harry was glad that both Vaan and Penelo were holding their own, particularly in battle. Larsa was also very skilled in combat for his age, though Harry had seen this while they fought monsters in the Lhusu Mines, before they had split up.

Eventually, they made their way to Jahara, the land where the Garif made their village. The Garif were a tall, heavily-muscled people with brown fur covering much of their bodies, and wearing distinct masks that they never removed. Despite their intimidating stature, and their admiration of warriors, they were actually a peaceful people.

They were given entry into Jahara by War-Chief Supinelo, who, despite his intimidating title, was calm and thoughtful. After resupplying at a Garif merchant's, they made their way to Great-Chief Uball-ka.

The older Garif, after introductions and pleasantries were out of the way, asked to examine the Nethicite pieces. "So, you have not used them yet?" he said, his voice echoing in a slightly eerie manner due to his mask.

"No. Rather, I had hoped that you could tell me how. Thus, I've come," Ashe said.

"You do not know the workings of the stones," the Great-Chief said. Then, he dropped the bombshell. "Then we are no different."

"What?" Ashe exclaimed.

Harry frowned. "Pardon my rudeness, Great-Chief, but I was told that you knew much about Magicite and Nethicite."

"Indeed we do," the Great-Chief said, apparently unruffled by Harry's interjection. "In ages past, the Gods made a gift of Nethicite to our people. But its manner of use eluded us. Displeased by our failure, the Gods took back their stones."

Harry's frown deepened. So the Occuria may have tried to make the Garif their catspaws in Ivalice. It may not have been an inability to use the Nethicite that displeased the Occuria: if the Garif of the past were anything like those in the present, they would have been content to remain as they are, not conquerors of Ivalice.

The Great-Chief continued his story. "They chose instead to give them to a Hume-King. Called the Dynast-King, he used the Nethicite's power to bring peace to a troubled time."

 _Peace on the Occuria's terms_ , Harry thought.

The Great-Chief handed the Nethicite back over to Ashe. "It is a curious thing. Though the blood of King Raithwall flows through your veins, you cannot wield Nethicite."

Ashe, though disappointed, kept her decorum. "Am I to understand, Great-Chief, that you cannot teach me how to do so?"

The Great-Chief nodded. "Yes, though it shames me so to admit it. Here before me stands a descendant of the Dynast-King himself, and I can accord her no help at all."

"I wouldn't say that," Harry said. "Even some knowledge Lady Ashe may not have known is better than none."

The Great-Chief nodded. "Then let me warn you. Once the Nethicite is used, then it shall be ages ere it is filled again to be used, and it will be your prosperity who will wield it in time to come. When empty, Nethicite is filled with a terrible thirst. A terrible longing to drink the world dry. The power of men, and of Magick. Of good, and of evil. It is often those who desire the Nethicite that the Nethicite itself desires."

A solemn silence fell across the group, broken only by Harry muttering, "Well, that's bloody ominous…"

* * *

Later that night, Harry walked with Ashe as she contemplated the Nethicite. "Don't jiggle it too hard," Harry said, biting his lip pensively. "It might be like being at ground zero for a nuclear weapon going off."

"Nuclear weapon?"

"A weapon created by technology. I said a few times that Nabudis got nuked, right?" Ashe nodded. "A nuke or nuclear weapon is basically a big bomb that can wipe out a city…and leaves a sort of poison called radioactivity. When I hear the tales of the Necrohol Nabudis became, it sounded like a nuclear weapon."

Ashe nodded, and returned to her contemplation of the Nethicite. "The power to destroy a city…within such a tiny lump of stone," she mused. "I must confess…I am frightened."

Harry was about to say something, when he saw a familiar ghostly figure. "Ashe…" he said.

Ashe looked up, and Harry knew that once more, she was beholding Rasler, while he saw his mother. The spectral figures faded as they approached, to reveal Vaan on a nearby bridge. Vaan saw the looks on their faces. "You saw them again, didn't you?" the pickpocket asked.

Ashe and Harry looked at each other, before nodding. "You saw your brother?" Harry asked.

"Yeah."

Ashe approached Vaan. "I am sorry I did not give my condolences earlier. He died in the service of Dalmasca, but used as a pawn by Archadia."

Vaan shook his head. "It's all right." He turned to contemplate the landscape. "He enlisted right at the end of the war. But for what? He knew we couldn't win."

"To protect something," Ashe said.

Vaan scoffed quietly and sadly. "You can't protect anything when you're dead." He then turned back to face Ashe and Harry. "Hating the Empire, wanting revenge…it's all I ever thought about. But I never did anything about it. Maybe I realised there was nothing I could do. It made me feel hollow, alone. And then I'd miss Reks. I'd say things like wanting to be a sky-pirate or stupid things like that, to take my mind off it."

"So what?" Harry asked. "You think your ambitions of being a sky-pirate was a distraction from the pain of losing Reks? Maybe, but it's more than that. I've lost people too, Vaan. I lost my home and my friends, permanently. I come from another world, as I said, and I have no way of knowing if there's any way to head back. Why do you think I became the Ghost of Dalmasca? It's because I had to do something to distract myself, to feel like I was doing something, even making a difference. Maybe it was like running away from the issue, but at least I was trying to do something. I still am. I swore to protect Ashe with my life. And I want to save Dalmasca from being steamrollered by one empire or another. That's what matters."

Vaan nodded. "Well, I'm done running, I know that for sure. I want to find my purpose, get some answers. If I stick with you, I think I will."

"I wish I did know the answers," Ashe said. "For every piece of information we find, new questions get asked. I do believe some of what Vayne has said, but I cannot believe everything he has said, lest it be part of a trap. Only by continuing this journey, I believe, will I find answers." Gently, she added, "Vaan, please leave us. I have a private matter to discuss with Harry."

"Sure," Vaan said, before he made his way back to where the others were.

The silence that hung between Ashe and Harry was palpable. Harry eventually broke it as he leaned against the railing. "You know, given what the Great-Chief said, the Garif nearly became the Occuria's pawns in Ivalice."

"That is not what I wished to discuss, Harry," Ashe said. A pensive look came over her face. Well, more than she usually had. "I think the time has come to discuss another matter. Namely that of you and I." She walked a little further down the bridge, and he followed. "As a princess, I have many responsibilities, though I am without a throne at this time. And as the last survivor of my line, I cannot discard them lightly. I certainly cannot discard the throne. My father instilled in me the duties of being a ruler. Normally, I would be wed to a noble of another line, but from where? Rasler is dead, and the Nabradian royal line with him. Should I wed someone from either Rozarria or Archadia, then the opposing power may even use that as a pretext for war."

"Ashe…if you're proposing wedding me…well, I can't claim to know everything about royal politics, but by most standards, I am a commoner, not even a noble. I think my father's family were of a relatively noble line back home, but that counts for nothing here."

"There are ways and means to elevate one such as yourself," Ashe said. "And I do not propose to do so yet, as I am still uncertain as to what I truly feel towards you. I think it may be love, but is it the love one feels towards a true friend, or the even deeper love one feels towards a spouse?"

Harry walked over to her. "Well…I know you're my friend. Sure, you've kept me at arm's length somewhat, but…you're a friend." He looked into her eyes. "Ashe…if you want to know what you feel for me, then…well, stop holding me away. Then we can really find out what we feel for each other. You hugged me for the first time in a long time back in the Aerodrome after Vayne had his talk with me. I think you need more hugs. It's alright to have a mask when you're being a princess, or being Amalia of the Resistance. Just don't have it on when you're trying to be human, right?"

Ashe nodded, a faint, mournful smile coming over her features. Then, without a word, she gently embraced him, an embrace he returned. As they did so, Ashe murmured, "Vossler once told me that I cannot abide weakness, least of all in myself."

"Is love a weakness?"

"It is a double-edged sword, like all great virtues. Love can strengthen…or cripple. Love can spur one to greater feats, or be used against you," Ashe said quietly.

"Dumbledore once said that it was my mother's love for me that protected me against Voldemort," Harry said. "While I think there was more to it than that, some sort of ritual or something she found, I don't think he was actually wrong. He was a great believer in the power of love." He scoffed, more than a little bitterly. "I'm not as much a believer, but like I said, he had a point. Just not the way he thought. Love is…love. Love can cause great good or evil. I don't think Dumbledore understood that last bit, or if he did, he didn't tell me."

Ashe murmured, "I have forgotten how good it feels to embrace, and to be embraced by, another. After Rasler's death, I…I believe that my heart began to turn to stone. You slowed that, but you could not stop it. I even wanted it to happen. I thought it would be better that way, so that I may hate the Archadian Empire all the more."

"And is it better?"

"…No. It is one thing to be strong. It is another to hate with no surcease. I still hate Vayne and his father, for all that they have inflicted on me, on Dalmasca, and Nabradia. I hate the Occuria, including Venat, for even if Vayne is telling the truth, Venat has helped orchestrate this conflict. But the Archadian Empire? Its people? Those like Larsa, who try to bring about peace? No. It took me some time to realise it, in addition to your counsel, but I do not hate the people of the Empire. Merely those who consider us mere chaff on the winds of history. Vayne, Gramis, Venat, the Senate…Vayne and Venat are only allies until I determine the truth of their words. If the Occuria are truly behind Rasler's shade, then I will cut the strings. If not, well, I intended to kill Vayne and Venat anyway. I will merely prolong their demise, make sure they die without a shred of honour."

"But if they're telling the truth?"

"Then I will tell all of Ivalice that they died in order to free us all, in spite of their monstrous actions," Ashe said. They separated, and a pensive look settled on Ashe's face. "How much of what we learned from Vayne should we tell Larsa?"

Eventually, Harry said, "Everything. He wants answers, and I don't think Vayne wanted to tell him. But Vayne probably knew I would tell Larsa. He certainly didn't tell me otherwise."

"Then we shall tell him," Ashe said. "If he wishes to know what is happening, then he deserves that much. I am still a little wary of him as an ally, but even Vossler recognises him as a potential asset." She looked into his eyes, and smiled. "Harry…it is good that we spoke. I am heartened to know that…" Her voice caught in her throat briefly. "That even amongst allies, I have a true friend, though it took me long to truly realise it. All that I ask is that, no matter where our path takes us, you remain as true to me henceforth as you have before."

"Ashe…you don't have to ask. I don't keep secrets from you, whether as the Ghost of Dalmasca, or as Harry Potter. We're in this together, until we die. Got it?"

She nodded her head. Then, the two of them headed back to the tents where the party were staying for the night in Jahara. They could only hope that their trip to Bur-Omisace was more profitable…

 **CHAPTER 7 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Some more Harry/Ashe as promised. Yes, they're taking it slow, but Ashe is only just beginning to free herself from the shackles of Rasler's death, and Harry, while attracted to her, is not sure what he feels for her is true romantic love.**

 **No numbered annotations for this chapter…**


	9. Chapter 8: Jote, Mjrn, and Venat

**CHAPTER 8:**

 **JOTE, MJRN, AND VENAT**

As Fran had suspected, their passage through the Golmore Jungle onto Bur-Omisace had been blocked by a magical energy field, erected by the Wood. In order to try and find a way to get around it, Fran had to open a passage to her former home, Eruyt Village. A Viera enclave, it was one of many around Ivalice that isolated themselves from the outside world.

Harry was far from impressed by the inhabitants. True, they were very easy on the eyes, and many wore less than Fran did. But they also gave them the cold shoulder, and Fran had told them to seek out her sister Mjrn themselves, as she was even less welcome here than they were. It reminded him a little of the hidden enclaves of Magical Britain, only he felt only marginally more welcome here than at a Death Eater's household.

Vaan seemed set on asking whichever Viera he met about Mjrn. Eventually, Ashe and Harry told him to be quiet while they used what diplomacy they could muster up. As they reached a dwelling that seemed to be of some importance, Ashe looked at the Viera present, and said, "My apologies for intruding, but we are in search of one of your number by the name of Mjrn."

The Viera looked back at her impassively. However, they received a reply of sorts, when a Viera who vaguely resembled Fran arrived. "You will leave at once," she said. "Humes are not suffered to walk upon these grounds."

"Our errand is with Mjrn, my lady," Ashe said, bowing briefly. "Once we speak with her, then we shall trouble you no longer."

"Diplomacy will serve you well in other situations," the Viera said. "But not now."

"I've heard the voice of the Wood," said Fran. Harry whirled to find her coming up to them. Harry noted the scowl on the other Viera's face. "She says that Mjrn no longer is in the village. Jote, where has she gone?"

"Why do you ask?" Jote asked, almost mockingly. Harry now knew this to be Fran's older sister, Jote, the leader of Eruyt. "The Wood tells us where she has gone. Or, can you not hear her?" On seeing Fran's expression, Jote remarked coldly, "You cannot. Your ears are dull from hearing their harsh speech, I think."

Harry rolled his eyes. "A heartwarming family reunion. I can see why Fran left." As Jote glared at him, he said, "Look, I'm sure both the Wood and yourself want to make sure Mjrn is safe, right? I presume she's not long out of the Wood. We'll look for her ourselves, you can deal with keeping your laws. I know you turn Viera who leave the Wood into outcasts."

Jote looked at him, before some vast wind seemed to blow through the area. Jote closed her eyes, and seemed to listen. Eventually, she said, "Our sister has left the Wood and gone west. She wanders warrens among men who hide themselves in clothes of cold iron." She then turned her eyes to Harry. "The Wood also speaks of you, the Ghost from another realm, the one who carries the Cloak of the Undying Ones. To speak to lost friends, seek out the Speculum in the Stillshrine of Miriam. The door is not forever locked, but only the Undying Ones hold the keys. Thus to me, the Wood has spoken."

Harry, after a moment, nodded. "Thank you."

Jote turned and walked away, but Fran said, "We Viera may begin as part of the Wood, but it is far from the only end we may choose."

"The same refrain I heard 50 years before," Jote said, albeit with a touch of…melancholy? Regret? There was certainly something there more than haughty disdain.

* * *

As they walked towards the entrance, Balthier remarked, "It was fortunate Harry got the information we needed. What do you suppose she meant by a warren filled with men in clothes of cold iron?"

"I would venture she meant the Henne Mines, in the Ozmone Plain," Larsa remarked, rubbing his chin. "She meant men in armour, no doubt. Henne Mines would be filled with Archadian soldiers."

"Not a problem," Vossler said.

Vaan seemed to have something on his mind, and called out to Fran. When she responded, he said, "I was wondering…about what Jote said, you know? About how you said the same thing 50 years ago?"

"And your point?" Fran asked.

Harry, realising what Vaan was about to ask, nudged Vaan sharply in the ribs with his elbow. When Vaan looked at him, Harry said, "You should never ask a lady her age, Vaan. Viera live for centuries, and don't age as much as we do. But they still get annoyed by questions like that."

"Oh," Vaan said. Fran chuckled slightly at his discomfort, and soon, they were off again…

* * *

It was on the trip to Henne Mines that Harry and Ashe began explaining what they had learned from Vayne to Larsa. Although clearly disturbed and a little disbelieving of their story, Larsa did listen, to his eternal credit. Balthier, after they had finished, took the young Solidor aside, presumably telling him about his true identity, as well as what he knew of Cid's apparent madness.

They soon made their way to the Henne Mines, using a nearly-concealed track to make it across the ravine(1). They found corpses strewn around the entrance. Vossler checked them, before remarking, "Dead. Fran, over here." As she walked over, he pointed to the wounds. "These claw marks seem small to come from most fiends."

Fran stared at the wounds, and then murmured, "You're right." She looked at her own hands, with clawed nails. "A fellow Viera did this, perhaps even Mjrn. But…it is not like her to do such a thing. Unless she was in a Mist Frenzy."

"And these are researchers from Draklor," Larsa said grimly, looking at the corpses. "What were they doing here, I wonder?"

"Research, I daresay," Balthier said. "I certainly don't believe it was for a picnic."

* * *

Harry was reminded somewhat of Lhusu Mines, only with more monsters and more Mist. The group moved through the mines in silence for the most part, dealing with enemies as they turned up. They also found various Archadians, soldiers and scientists both, dead. And only recently. Life spells and Phoenix Downs wouldn't work on them, if only because they were dead for long enough for those to be ineffective. Or some foul magic prevented it.

They soon came to one of the major dig sites, and Larsa, as he looked around, remarked, "Look at all the Magicite. These mines resemble the ones at Lhusu, and I do not believe that to be happenstance. Draklor must be ensuring their Magicite supply. After all, should the Resistance make its move on Bhujerba, then Lhusu will be out of their grasp."

"Hold," Fran said, noticing another corpse. Then, a figure lurched into the room. A Viera. "Is that her? What is this Mist I sense?"

Harry's senses were jangling. He couldn't detect Mist, unless it was in high quantities, enough to see. But his danger instincts were screaming, especially at the way the Viera was moving, like a puppet with tangled strings. "Fran…do Viera normally act like that, even in a Mist Frenzy?"

Before Fran could reply, the Viera croaked, in a voice that seemed to overlap with another, " _The stench of Humes…and with them, the stench of power._ "

Harry, having an idea of what had happened, stepped forward. "You know, it's not very nice to take over people's bodies. Should we get a young priest and an old priest?"

The Viera looked at him, and blinked. " _Of what inane fantasy do you speak?_ "

"A movie my cousin watched."

" _So the Ghost sees fit to cease hiding 'neath the Mantle of former kinsmen?_ " the Viera rasped.

Harry paled when he heard those words. And when he realised what they meant, he scowled even more. By Mantle, the possessor meant his Cloak. And the Cloak was once a gift of the Occuria. "But you hide in the flesh of another. So I think you should stop hiding like I did… _Venat._ "

The Viera convulsed, standing as rigid as a statue, while the same bizarre shape Harry had seen behind Vayne formed above her. "What sorcery is this?!" Vossler demanded.

"So you are Venat?" Balthier mused, despite his shaken expression. "The one who drove my father into near-insanity?"

" _Into madness I drove him not, but into clarity in its stead_ ," the apparition said, speaking simultaneously with the Viera. " _From the Undying Ones, Ivalice will be freed ere long._ "

"At such a high cost?!" Ashe snarled. "Was it worth the sacrifice of my father, my beloved, my people?"

" _Tis inevitable that change demands sacrifice. Your ardour I gladly endure_ ," Venat said serenely.

"Great, we've got an ancient, if not immortal being, speaking like he, or she, or it's doing Shakespeare in the Park," Harry snarked.

" _Prattling jackanapes in aspect, but your gaze recites a different tale(_ _2)_ ," Venat commented. " _And you, power-needy Hume-child_ ," the Occurian continued, looking at Ashe, " _of what path do you march?_ "

"To ascend my throne, but without the aid of any Occuria. Even you, Vayne's string-puller!" Ashe snarled. "I have taken the Nethicite for my own, to make sure that Dalmasca and its people, MY people, survive what is to come. I do not intend to rule any demesne save my own, or destroy, save where necessary. Whatever covenant or compact the Dynast-King has signed with your people has been sundered!"

A strange, eerie, staccato sound echoed around the chamber. They soon realised that Venat was laughing. " _Steadfast is your resolve, Daughter of Raminas. But ware Gerun, for from his lofty throne, if he judges strings to be lacking, then in their stead, chains and whips he uses. When your business with Anastasis ends, to Giruvegan you must go, whether deceiving or obeying the Undying Ones is your path. Then, to the Pharos at Ridorana, and a choice to be made._ "

As Venat began to fade, Harry said, "The Wood spoke of the Speculum, and that your people hold the keys to my being able to go back home!"

" _To you, they would not give them, unless forever under their thrall. To seize by force or deceit are your paths. But the long years the Undying have lived have been great tutors in cunning and deceit, and force does little against them. Fare you well…_ " And with that, Venat faded, leaving the Viera the Occuria had controlled to slump to the ground.

Fran ran over, and cradled her fellow Viera. "Mjrn. Mjrn!" So it was her sister.

Mjrn opened her eyes, and looked blearily at Fran. "Is…is it you, Fran?" She then passed out again.

* * *

Surprisingly, it wasn't long, perhaps a few minutes at best, before Mjrn recovered consciousness. With little prompting, she explained why she had come: the Archadians had impinged on the Wood, but hadn't actually threatened it. Both curiosity and worry that hadn't been shared by her fellow Viera drew Mjrn here…and she had been captured. "They set me close beside a stone," Mjrn said. "They said its Mist would be drawn into me, that the Viera were well-suited to this end."

"Instead, they got a Mist frenzy and a possession," Harry muttered. "I'm guessing it was manufactured Nethicite rather than the Deifacted kind."

Larsa pulled out his own piece, and muttered, "This is more danger than I had imagined."

"There is a place for all things, even danger such as this," Ashe said.

"Just as long as it doesn't go off like the Midlight Shard," Harry muttered. He looked at Mjrn. "At least you're okay. And at least you give a damn about potential threats to Eruyt. Though doubtless Jote won't see it that way."

"Jote means well," Fran said quietly.

"Maybe, but she has a major stick where the sun doesn't shine," Harry said. "And Eruyt, to some, is a cupboard under the stairs."

"Of what do you speak?" Larsa asked.

Harry chuckled bitterly. "You may find this hard to believe, Larsa, but I come from another world entirely, where magic is hidden, and machines dominate. My uncle and aunt feared and hated magic, and my aunt was also jealous because my mother got magic, and she didn't. From when I was one, till the day I turned eleven, when I lived with them, my bedroom, if you can call it that, was a cupboard underneath the stairs. I was often locked in there for days at a time if I did anything to piss them off. Which was frequently. I had to do the household chores. I was a fucking servant to them."

Larsa stared at him disbelievingly. Harry knew that it wasn't the whole 'from another world' thing, but rather, that family treated each other like that. "And your parents? Dead, I assume?"

"At the hands of a warlock who thought anyone with impure magical heritage had to be exterminated," Harry said. "I became famous because I survived an instant-death curse nobody else did, though it was something my mother, or maybe even my father did. And the man who was one of the most powerful people in the magical community in my country decided to leave me with my relatives, and he never really explained why. Meddling old goat. It's only in Ivalice that I can do what I choose to do. I'm no longer Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the so-called saviour of Magical Britain, despite them turning on me when it suits them. I'm just Harry. I want to have a choice."

"And yet, you can't help yourself helping others," Balthier said.

"One of his oldest friends once told him he has a 'saving people thing'," Ashe pointed out.

"We're getting off track," Harry said. "My original point was, Eruyt may be sanctuary to some…but a stifling prison to others. And I'll be damned if I see someone thrown back into a cupboard…or shamed back into climbing back in. If Mjrn wants to leave the Wood, then she should…though the consequences are hers to deal with."

Harry, unintentionally, had set gears turning in both Viera's heads. Fran approached Harry, and said, quietly, "She is safer in the Wood."

"I was safer, theoretically, with the Dursleys," Harry retorted. "Jote may not abuse her, but staying in Eruyt may kill your sister's soul."

Fran looked back at her sister. "Jote will not be happy. And Mjrn will suffer harsh lessons about life in Ivalice."

"It's her choice to make. She's older than I am, and yet I'm able to make decisions about my future."

Fran got a pensive look on her face, before she walked over to Mjrn. "I am no longer of the Wood, Mjrn. I have discarded Wood and village. I won my freedom, yet my past has been cut away forever. No longer can my ears hear the Green Word. This solitude you want, Mjrn?"

Mjrn looked up at Fran, her eyes glistening with tears. Eventually, she said, "I must think on this. When we arrive at the borders of Eruyt, you will have my answer."

"Then choose carefully, Mjrn. No matter which path you choose, only one sister shall remain to you," Fran said, sadly.

* * *

When they got back to Eruyt, Mjrn made her decision. Harry and Ashe were sent to deal with Jote, along with Fran. As Jote looked at Fran with an unusually pensive look, Fran shook her head. "I am sorry, sister, but Mjrn is as dead to you as she is to me."

"I know. The Wood spoke to me," Jote said, her gaze turning to Harry. "She is jealous of you taking her away from us."

"To some, the Wood may be a prison. I'm sorry," Harry said.

Jote nodded, her eyes glistening. "Then I charge you and your group with protecting her. If she wishes to do what she can for Ivalice outside the Wood, then I will not impede her now. But she returns here as an outsider." She handed a blue amulet over to Ashe. "For saving Mjrn. Lente's Tear is a permission. To other places go."

"You have my thanks, Jote," Ashe said as she took the amulet. "Ephemeral though a Hume's life is, I will not forget this. I wish to ensure that the Wood is not disturbed by the drums and trumpets of war." She looked at the Viera leader, before saying, "The burdens of leadership are legion, are they not?"

Jote nodded again. "Burdens come hand in hand with duty and responsibility. The Wood only asks that you beware the Undying Ones. Their snares infest the world."

Fran asked, tentatively, "I have a request. Listen to the Wood's voice for me. I fear…I fear she hates."

As before, a strange, eldritch wind seemed to blow, before Jote said, "The Wood longs for you, for the child gone beneath her boughs."

A sardonic but wistful smile touched at Fran's lips. "A pleasant lie, that."

"The Wood is jealous of the Humes that have taken you and your sister, Fran," Jote said, her eyes saying what she couldn't. _Stay safe, and keep your sister safe_.

"I am as them now, am I not?" Fran asked, wryness and sadness mixing together. "Goodbye, sister."

And so they left Eruyt, intending to make for Bur-Omisace. Even as they passed through parts of Golmore Jungle formerly barred to them, though, Harry was troubled, by Venat's words. If Venat was telling the truth, then it was more than likely he couldn't go home again, not without tricking the Occuria.

Venat's words echoed mockingly in his head. _To you, they would not give them, unless forever under their thrall. To seize by force or deceit are your paths. But the long years the Undying have lived have been great tutors in cunning and deceit, and force does little against them…_

 **CHAPTER 8 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **A very different confrontation against Mjrn/Venat, and Mjrn joins the party.**

 **Now, why am I bringing Mjrn into the party? Well, after getting the idea for** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **, I realised Mjrn got a raw deal in the game. Fran manipulating her younger sister into staying at Eruyt, while well-intentioned, was probably her low point in her character arc. So I've made her part of the party. I haven't decided whether I'll ship her with anyone yet, but it won't be Harry or Balthier…**

 **It's very hard to write Venat's dialogue, as I don't know enough how to write iambic pentameter to do it right. So I tried to make it sound authentic rather than accurate, making Venat's dialogue sound archaic and antiquated.**

 **Review-answering time!** **Rakaan** **: Unfortunately, I'm shit at describing battles. You know how many an awful sex scene are described as 'Ikea Erotica', because they sound more like an instruction leaflet? I'd be guilty of 'Ikea Battles'. Plus, I like to focus more on key scenes and character development.**

 **correnhimself316** **: Ashe has kept herself at one remove from Harry for a long time, so she's having a hard time trying to bridge that divide. Plus, she's still mourning Rasler. However, she is, gradually, beginning to come to terms with that.**

 **1\. I couldn't be arsed with that whole business with the wounded soldier and the Chocobo tracks. So I sort of glossed over it.**

 **2\. This is (indirectly, thanks to Venat's way of speaking) a quote from** ** _Doctor Who: The Caves of Androzani_** **. One of the antagonists, Sharaz Jek, when aggravated by the Doctor, remarks, "You have the mouth of a prattling jackanapes. But your eyes…they tell a different story."**


	10. Chapter 9: A Meeting of Four Rulers

**CHAPTER 9:**

 **A MEETING OF FOUR RULERS**

"And here I was thinking Scotland and Hogwarts was cold," Harry grumbled as they trudged up the snow-strewn mountain paths of Paramina Rift. They had gotten warm clothing, and Harry had some warming charms to use. They'd encountered a few refugees, fleeing from zones where the Archadian Empire and the Rozarrian Empire had skirmished. Bur-Omisace was a recognised neutral zone, though Harry wondered how long it would remain so.

Mjrn looked around in wonder. Clearly, she didn't get out much beyond Eruyt Village. The young Viera had recovered well after being possessed by Venat, though she was horrified to learn what she had done while under the odious Occuria's influence, though it was actually more due to the Mist Frenzy she had sunk into: Venat had possessed her to mitigate the damage, and to lie in wait for Ashe. Fran stuck close to her sister, and Balthier close to them both. Mjrn may be older than any other Hume member of their little adventuring band, but she was perhaps the most naïve, save perhaps for Penelo.

"How do you think the Occuria watch us?" Ashe asked Harry quietly.

"I don't know. But I've got the feeling that they can't watch us all the time," Harry murmured. "Maybe they can only manifest when you have that Nethicite out or something, like it draws their attention to you. Or maybe in areas where they have a strong influence. I say try to avoid pulling the Nethicite out or even touching it while we're talking about them. I mean, you were holding that Nethicite in Jahara when we saw the shades again."

"I hope that you're correct," Ashe said. "I have no intention of being their puppet, save in appearance. If Venat speaks truly, then our goal is the same, even if the means are irrevocably separated. The reins of history, back in the hands of Man…no, all people of Ivalice. Humes, Bangaa, Seeq, Viera, Moogles, Nu Mou…we all share the same destiny, and the ability to shape it. We do not require or desire shepherding like livestock, and I will be damned before I walk willingly to the slaughter."

"Well said," Larsa said. "But the Occuria are far from our only concerns, Lady Ashe. I am loathe to consider my brother a true villain in this, but his actions are concerning, to say the least. I fear not for myself, but for the people of Ivalice. And in searching for answers about the past, I fear we may have missed news of the present. I spoke to one refugee who fled here from Archades, and apparently, in the days since we left Rabanastre, the Senate has recalled my brother from Dalmasca on a pretext. I believe events are coming to a head. Given that Judge Ghis saw Harry being brought in to speak to my brother, I believe that Ghis may have taken the opportunity to sow discord for his own purposes. I am not blind to the man's ambitions."

"Then we should make haste, and hope we are not too late to speak to the Gran Kilitias," Vossler said.

* * *

Bur-Omisace was spectacular, Harry reflected, a magnificent temple built high on a mountain, serene and peaceful. But the refugee camps, tended to by acolytes of the religion behind Bur-Omisace, marred this sight. It was a reminder that war had touched the peaceful temple, even if it hadn't been drawn into the conflict proper.

Ashe and her companions made their way into the temple, and were escorted through various corridors to a throne room, where a long causeway, set between channels of water, led to a throne, where a figure sat, their eyes closed. An old, wizened man with pointed ears (a Helgas, Harry remembered from what he had read, not actually a Hume) sat serenely. The Gran Kilitias Anastasis, Harry knew. A man who, despite his pacifist nature, had an iron will. It was said that he could silence a dispute with a single, withering look. Harry didn't quite get that from looking at the man, but knew that to underestimate him was idiocy.

"Is he sleeping?" Vaan asked.

"Sort of," Harry remarked. "If I recall correctly, he's a Dreamsage. He's in a state where he can enter a world of dreams and use them to, oh, how does it go? The future foretold, the past explained, and the present…apologised for(1)."

A faint chuckle echoed in the air around them, an old, but resonant voice that soon spoke into their minds. " _An unflattering but succinct description, Ghost of Dalmasca. It is true, I do not sleep. I dream, for reality and illusion are a duality, two parts of the same whole. Only the mirror of dreams reflects that which is true._ "

Ashe stepped forward. "Your Grace, Anastasis…you know why I have come?"

" _Yes. Lay down your words, Ashelia, daughter of Raminas. I have dreamt your dream. Who better to carry on the line of Dalmasca than a descendant of Raithwall, bearing two shards of Deifacted Nethicite? Your dream of a kingdom restored is known to me, though it is good that you temper this dream._ "

"Though I am sure current events have just complicated matters, Your Grace."

The accented voice came from behind, and they turned to find an elegantly-dressed young man with dark hair and a beard approaching. There was something about the man's manner and dress that put Harry in mind of a Spaniard. And although he had a vaguely arrogant air, it was a calculated one. In truth, his eyes glittered with intelligence and compassion. An elegant woman accompanied him, having the air of a personal assistant.

"My little emperor-in-waiting," the man said to Larsa. "You have called, and I have come."

Ashe looked at the man, Larsa and Vayne's earlier words coming to mind. "Al-Cid Margrace, I presume?" she asked.

"Indeed," Al-Cid said with a pleasant smile. "One of the many, many members of the Margrace family, the current rulers of Rozarria. Stopping this coming war alone is, as you may have considered, an exercise in futility. I came seeking Larsa's assistance." He stopped before Ashe, and knelt. "To think I stand before the Lady Ashe. It is indeed an honour." He took her hand and kissed it. "I see it is true after all. Ah, stunning is Dalmasca's desert bloom."

Larsa scowled, and Harry crossed his arms. "The thing about desert blooms is that they often have thorns or prickles to jab the unwary. Or have you never seen a cactus?" Harry asked.

Al-Cid chuckled good-naturedly. "True enough. Forgive my forwardness. We have much to discuss."

" _Indeed_ ," Anastasis said. " _In Archadia, Larsa. In Rozarria, Al-Cid. And in Dalmasca, Ashe. They dream not of war. Should empire join with empire, then the way will open for a new Ivalice in our time._ "

Al-Cid scoffed. "You speak of dreams, Your Grace, but reality is a truly cruel bitch. War is upon us."

Ashe turned to Al-Cid. "I came here to ask for help from His Grace, Al-Cid. Announcing the restoration of Dalmasca will have to wait until I am ready to truly defend her with the Nethicite. But you speak as if this was all for naught."

"Not for naught, no," Al-Cid said. "We had hoped that once you could announce your ascendancy, then the Resistance could be disbanded, and the pretext for Rozarria to war with Archadia gone with it. Two years, you have been considered dead. But the problem with our meeting here is that the times have changed." Al-Cid looked at Larsa. "I am sorry, Larsa, for your loss if nothing else. Your father, Emperor Gramis, is dead."

As Larsa gaped, Harry stepped forward. "How did he die?"

"Officially, an assassination plot, formulated by the Senate and spearheaded by Senator Gregoroth. Rumour has it, though, that Vayne murdered Gramis, and used the Senate as scapegoats so that he could dissolve the Senate. He has currently assumed autocratic powers over Archadia. One of the prominent Judges protested, and even drew her sword on Vayne when she believed that he had threatened you."

"Drace…" Larsa hissed in dismay. "My brother ordered her execution, then, for drawing her sword on him?"

"He very nearly did. However, he decided to strip her of almost all of her duties instead, save for your protection," Al-Cid said. "A not-dissimilar fate befell Gabranth, as he was spying on Vayne for your father. But he warned them both that this was merely a stay of their execution, and that he would have their heads should anything befall you. But this, as you know, complicates matters. Gramis would definitely have pursued a more peaceful solution at this stage. But Vayne is another matter."

"Especially with the other matters involved," Balthier said. "Vayne knows that Ashe is still alive. He only lets her live because she is of use to her, and because our goals, perversely, are the same. And given what we have learned, peace is not on his agenda. Not quite wanton war, but peace on his terms alone."

"And the man is a military genius," Al-Cid lamented.

Anastasis added, " _To reveal yourself is to invite greater chaos, possibly imperil us all. Through the dreams, I see war, with Vayne's name writ bold in history's page, with blood as ink and sword as pen. And I do not have the knowledge you seek to wield the Nethicite, Daughter of Raminas._ "

Larsa, troubled, said, "I believe Vayne is trying to ensure my own ascendancy, but at terrible cost."

"Well, if he's trying to ensure there's no more threat to you, then he's doing a good job," Al-Cid said, taking a piece of paper from his assistant. He began reading off various statistics about Vayne's armada against Rozarria. Handing it back, he remarked, "The largest force for war ever seen in living memory, I'd wager."

"Then the Nethicite may be our best chance," Ashe said with a scowl. "Or something greater. Greater than Nethicite."

The Gran Kilitias opened his eyes at that, and he spoke out loud. "To match power against power? Truly the words of a Hume-child."

"I am descended from Raithwall. But I also recognise that we need every advantage we can get, in order to protect my people. Nethicite, as with all of power's manifestations, is a double-edged sword. I have to learn how to wield it, true, but I also must learn what else I can do to protect Dalmasca."

"Indeed," the Gran Kilitias mused. "You intend to use power to protect, though that can be the most seductive form of power of all. Then you have but one choice. You must seek the other power Raithwall left."

"Another power?" Ashe asked.

"The power to cleave Nethicite. Seek you the Sword of Kings in the Stillshrine of Miriam, after journeying across the Paramina Rift."

Harry, recognising the name thanks to Jote, asked, "Your Grace, I'm sorry to ask, but what do you know of the Speculum?"

"The Speculum?" The Gran Kilitias scrutinised him. "Yes…your dreams come from another demesne entirely, Ghost of Dalmasca. You fell into our realm by accident. Or perhaps by providence. The Speculum, an enchanted mirror sages of yore used to see through the veil between realms. A gift from the gods. The Speculum rests with the Sword of Kings. It is curious, though. Why would the Dynast-King entrust a power to destroy Nethicite, the symbol of his greatness, to another, and not to his own progeny? Ashelia B'nargin, awaken, and take up your sword, lest your dream remain a dream."

"You have my thanks, Your Grace," Ashe said. She turned to Larsa, who looked pensive. Recognising his look, she asked, "You wish to stay?"

Larsa nodded. "My apologies, but…to learn of my father's death, despite the pain he put you and all of Dalmasca through…I need time to mourn and reflect, Lady Ashe. And to discuss with Al-Cid our next course of action."

Al-Cid nodded as well. "My apologies for being the bearer of atrocious tidings. I wish you luck in your endeavour, Lady Ashe. For all our sakes."

As Ashe and her entourage left, they heard the Gran Kilitias, his voice echoing in their minds once more. " _My dream, too, fades into the day_ …"

* * *

"I don't know whether this is a disaster or an opportunity," Harry scowled as they began walking out of Bur-Omisace, heading towards Paramina Rift again. "Vayne is, nominally, on our side, or at least his goals coincide with ours for the most part."

"True, but he has his own methods of doing so. And leaving aside the Occuria for the moment, let's not forget that he doesn't have all of his underlings on a leash," Balthier said.

Vossler scoffed. "So we're still on our own, despite Larsa's grand promises."

"Larsa, Al-Cid, and the Gran Kilitias are allies not to be underestimated, Captain Azelas," Fran pointed out. "And we cannot discount Marquis Ondore. But we cannot rest easy. We may not have found all we have come for, but we should continue, in case we find something more."

"Venat said that, after this, we were to make our way to Giruvegan," Ashe mused. "Right into the lair of the enemy."

"One thing at a time, Ashe," Balthier said. "We'll deal with the string-pulling would-be architects of history after we deal with this little quest."

Harry rolled his eyes, but Balthier had a point. Better to keep focusing on the task at hand than worry about something further into the future. But the revelations in that temple disturbed him. It seemed that Ivalice was spiralling towards war, no matter what he tried to do, and Dalmasca was going to get caught up in the middle of it all…

 **CHAPTER 9 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **And here you have it, the Bur-Omisace sequence, but with some differences. Given that this story is pretty much told mostly through Harry's perspective, you'll have to learn later why Drace survived in this story than in canon, though it was mostly due to Harry's influence on Vayne, little though it was. The next chapter will gloss over the Stillshrine of Miriam stuff, instead heading mostly into Harry using the Speculum for the first time, and the party confronting the Archadian forces at Bur-Omisace.**

 **Review-answering time!** **plums** **: The Occuria, while they can see anywhere, cannot see everywhere at once, not unlike Sauron in** ** _The Lord of the Rings_** **. Ashe and Harry's discussion earlier was meant to address this: they can watch her when she has the Nethicite in hand, or in areas thick with Mist. Whether they do so all the time is unkown. Anyway, it's a story. If you have any qualms about it, just repeat the MST3K Mantra.**

 **cavco** **: Thanks. If you want a different pairing (Harry/Mjrn) and a more comic story, try** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **.**

 **1\. I used a similar joke in Luna Lovegood's mouth in** ** _Fall to Zenith_** **. It's a quote from** ** _Doctor Who: The Creature from the Pit_** **, specifically the astrologer Organon.**


	11. Chapter 10: Violence

**CHAPTER 10:**

 **VIOLENCE**

The Speculum weighed heavily in Harry's pocket as they headed towards the entrance of the Stillshrine of Miriam. He had found it easily enough, too easily, but once he had gotten it, he realised a few things. Things that prevented him from using it.

The first thing, and perhaps more importantly from a pragmatic view, was that this was an artifact the Occuria had created. Like the Nethicite, it might allow the Occuria to see what they were doing when active, and the Occuria could also try to deceive them with it. The second thing was that Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to look back on his old world. Not because he didn't want to see his friends again. Rather, it was more to do with how many of them had died. Whether there were any left to talk to. Whether any of them would be happy to see that he was alive and well.

Harry hadn't exactly been relaxing in his new life in Ivalice, but he didn't know whether any of his friends would see it the same way. Some wouldn't, but others…well…

He thought back to what had happened when they obtained the Sword of Kings (having fought a number of enemies, including another Esper, Mateus). Ashe had seen Rasler again, though neither Vaan or Harry saw their respective spectres. Ashe very nearly tested the Sword of Kings on the Dawn Shard, only to falter. Rasler's supposed shade had disapproved of the action, and in retrospect, cleaving Nethicite that still had a lot of magic inside it was a potentially bad idea. Being at ground zero to something like Nabudis wasn't at all appealing.

"Do not dive so deep into your worries that you drown in them," Fran said, the elegant Viera noticing his disquiet.

"Sorry, can't help it," Harry said.

Fran smiled gently. "Balthier has the same problem, though you would not know it. What you see most often is a mask, as you have doubtless seen, but you and he share the same ailment. Many of us here do. Ashe worries about her path, Basch and Vossler worry about their charge. I believe my sister is contracting the same illness. She worries about whether leaving Eruyt was the right thing to do."

"Sorry. I encouraged her to leave," Harry said quietly.

"Do not apologise. I understand why you encouraged her, and a selfish part of me is glad that you did so. But Mjrn is still young by our people's standards. Admittedly, I was even younger when I exiled myself. But it was her choice in the end to make. That was what you showed me." She looked over at Mjrn, who was holding forth with Ashe and Vossler about some issue or other. "One thing that Jote never truly learned, I believe, is that sometimes, listening to voices other than that of the Wood or Viera grants perspective. Or perhaps my sister knows, but is bound by her duty to our people. I believe it to be the latter, that she is caught betwixt her duty and her heart. Much like Ashe."

"Yeah, well, Ashe has been training to be a princess for all her life, until the Archadians came along," Harry said. "Ashe and Rasler taught me many things about royalty and nobility, stuff I hadn't really thought about. Back on my world, I had a similar sort of expectation. But here, I'm free to be me."

"But the chains of the past weigh heavily on you, Harry. You are caught between a past you cannot forget, and a now you want to keep. You're not sure if there is anyone else left alive to speak to from your homeworld. That is why you seem hesitant about using the Speculum." Fran gently put a hand on his shoulder. "Do not be afraid to use it, but do not rush into using it. Haste and hesitation can be equally bad."

He nodded. But as they emerged from the Stillshrine, they saw airships flying overhead. Archadian airships…and heading in the direction of Bur-Omisace. And in the distance, they could see smoke rising.

"It seems that the Empire has become so bold as to attack Bur-Omisace with impunity," Vossler snarled. "Vayne has betrayed us."

"Or one of the factions," Balthier said. "They may have shown their public support for Vayne, but some elements, like the other Judges, may yet be champing at the bit, ready to destroy what they see as resistance."

"It matters not," Ashe said quietly, her voice holding an undertone of anger. "Whoever has perpetrated this outrage…they will pay in coin of blood…"

* * *

Bur-Omisace was in ruins. Refugees had been slaughtered indiscriminately, as had the priests. There were many survivors, and from them, they learned that while Larsa had gone willingly, two Judges, Ghis and Bergan, had remained, and perpetrated this massacre.

They found their way back to the chamber of the Gran Kilitias. To their horror, the ancient priest was dead. And standing over him were a pair of armoured figures, Judges, with some other soldiers nearby. Harry recognised one of the Judges as being Ghis. The other was larger and more burly, presumably Bergan.

They noticed their arrival. Bergan growled, "Ah, so the vagrant princess returns. Swift has your lust for vengeance led you to the Sword of Kings."

"And how swiftly you turn to the path of atrocity," Ashe said coldly.

"Not mere atrocity, my dear princess," Ghis said. "Then again, without the Deifacted Nethicite, you bear no proof of your former station. It's a shame that Larsa had the wit to leave with the others, as it would be one less Solidor in the world. After all, it's not always blood that makes an emperor."

"Your ambitions far exceed your station," Basch observed. "Is your comrade complicit?"

"I will do anything to ensure that the reins of history are put back in the hands of Man…of Archadia," Bergan said. "And Vayne is being deceived by an Occurian himself. Too late, and to their sorrow, do those who misplace their trust in gods learn their fate. You, and Vayne, your fates will be shared. A palimpsest of history we will make Ivalice, starting here, wiping the slate clean to write our true history!"

Mist began to surround Bergan, swirling inwards, and giving him an intimidating aura. Mjrn's eyes widened. "It is like what happened to me!" she hissed.

"Indeed! Manufactured Nethicite is the power of Man! Forged by his wisdom, wielded by those who would challenge the gods themselves!" Bergan roared.

Ghis sighed. "Less of the theatrics, Bergan. You exude more ham than an Archades butcher. Only someone as…" Ghis seemed to search for the right word. "Only someone as _audacious_ as you would set Nethicite about your very bones."

"You mean insane," Balthier said. "Given who probably created the technique…I shouldn't be surprised."

"Yes. Your father is as brilliant as he is deranged." On Balthier's startled look, Ghis sneered from behind his helmet. "Oh yes, I had a notion of who you really were for some time, traitor. A Judge who threw it all away for the frivolous life of a sky-pirate with a Viera whore." His attention turned to Harry. "And you…the Ghost of Dalmasca. Oh yes, I overheard your little conversation with Vayne back in Dalmasca after he dismissed me like a whipped cur. For all the legend around you, you're a mere mortal who will bleed and die like all mortals do."

"Enough prattle!" Bergan said, extending a gauntleted hand. "Hand over the Deifacted Nethicite and the Sword of Kings, and your ends shall be merciful."

"You waste your breath on the princess, Bergan," Ghis said. "Ever quick to spurn an honourable surrender, like her sire."

Ashe's eyes narrowed. "You know _nothing_ of my father," she hissed angrily, readying her sword.

* * *

The battle was long and hard fought, as had been so many others before. Basch had been given command of Mateus, and Basch and Ashe (who commanded Belias) used the Espers against the two Judges and their reinforcements. Mjrn and Fran used their bows and Balthier his rifle to attack them from afar, while Vaan, Basch, and Vossler attacked using close-ranged weaponry. Harry used his magic.

Ghis soon fell, but Bergan fought on in a berserk battlelust, and soon, he managed to swat Ashe away. "Pitiful," Bergan sneered. His attention turned to Harry, who had fired another spell at him. "Watch on, princess, while I slay the Ghost of Dalmasca. I can make it so Life magic and Phoenix Downs have no effect with my abilities."

Bergan lunged at ridiculous speed, and Harry had no time to get out of the way of Bergan stabbing with one of his swords. But Vossler interposed himself between Harry and Bergan, the sword going through his body like a hot knife through butter. "Bah! You're dying in the wrong order! But then again, so much for the vaunted skills of Captain Azelas! You merely postponed his demise!"

"Indeed. But by a few decades, I hope," Vossler said, coughing out blood as he smiled grimly through the pain.

Before Bergan could realise what Vossler meant by that, Basch jammed his sword in between the plates of Bergan's armour. "For Dalmasca, for Bur-Omisace, and for all the people of Ivalice," he snarled.

Bergan convulsed, and swung around, flinging Basch back. However, he seemed to be suffering from some sort of fit. He was glowing from within, convulsing, spasming, before a blast of energy radiated out from his body, and he collapsed to the ground with a rasping gurgle.

"Vossler!" Ashe hissed in dismay, crawling over to her comrade, as did Basch and Harry.

Vossler looked up at his princess. Pain wracked his features, but he gave a smile. Harry cast some healing magic in a panic, only to realise it wasn't working. "Must be some ability he used with the Manufactured Nethicite," Basch remarked grimly. "Vossler, stay with us."

"I can't. Forgive me, princess. I can't stay with you."

"Stay awake, Vossler," Harry said. "You're tougher than this. I can't let you die."

Vossler chuckled bitterly. "Even though I have called your loyalty into question, you strive to save me?"

"Of course I bloody do. You're an arse, but you're just doing your job. I'm not seeing anyone else die, Vossler."

"…Forgive me, but you will be. Basch, Harry, I charge you with her safety. And Harry…I know how you feel about her. You give her much-needed happiness. Continue to do so, I beg of you." His eyes went over to Ashe. "Goodbye, Ashe…" he rasped, before passing on.

Harry scowled. It had been like Cedric Diggory all over again. Now the Gran Kilitias, not to mention a lot of his followers, and Vossler, was dead. So many decent people, trampled over by the ambitions of Ghis and Bergan. And how many of those were mirrored by the deaths back home?

As Ashe wept quietly, and Basch stared at his comrade's corpse, Balthier went over to Bergan's own cadaver, and examined it. Harry was pleased to note that the bloody ruin of Bergan's face, exposed when Balthier removed the helmet, was set in an expression of agony. Fran looked on grimly, and Mjrn, after a moment, turned away and vomited. "As Ghis said, he set his very bones with Nethicite," Balthier said. "Either his injury caused some sort of catastrophic failure, or he was about to overload anyway. Either way, a nasty way to go."

"He deserved it," Harry said contemptuously. He knelt down next to Ashe. "Ashe? Are you okay?"

She nodded, wiping the tears away. "I will be. Such wanton violence for the sake of their ambition."

"What about Larsa?" Penelo asked.

A pained voice answered them. "Spirited away, by Judges Gabranth and Drace." They found Al-Cid Margrace limping in, helped by his assistant.

"Are you okay?" Vaan asked.

"I've been better. Sadly, the same cannot be said of the Gran Kilitias," Al-Cid said. "It was once said he could silence belligerents with a withering look. But there are those who do not fear the gods or blasphemy. Our young lordling left with Gabranth and Drace to try and prevent trouble. But Bergan flew into a rage, and Ghis seemed to want to indulge him. We were left to fend for ourselves, and you see the results before you. Please, princess, I beg you, allow me to take you back to Rozarria?"

"For protection?" Ashe asked with a scowl.

"I would gladly lay down my life at a single word to be sure, like your most loyal Azelas, but I harbour no delusions of valiant grandeur. Rather, it is Vayne and the Archadian belligerence that has our War Pavilion jumping at shadows. That they would go so far as to scour Mount Bur-Omisace as they have will only justify the war-mongers of Rozarria, and they will demand a pre-emptive strike. By coming to see them, though, you may yet persuade them to stay their hand."

"I understand, but I beg your pardon and indulgence in any case. We have business elsewhere, business that this tangled affair hinges on," Ashe said. "We leave for Giruvegan ere long. As for matters in Rozarria, I wish the best of luck to you."

"Ah, so you would leave each to fend for themselves?" Al-Cid asked, though his wry tone was empty of condemnation. "Let us hope that you are not disappointed. Oh, and Larsa left a message. _The differences between our lands will fade before our shared dream_." He put on his sunglasses as he got to his feet a little shakily. "My leave, I take."

As he left, Ashe closed her eyes, tears still trickling from them. "We will stay here for a period before we make our way to Giruvegan."

"It lies not far from here," Fran said. "The ancient metropolis lies further south of Golmore Jungle, beyond the Feywood. Few Viera dare to venture into the Feywood, given the heavy Mist and powerful monsters. We should prepare well before we venture there ourselves."

The princess nodded, before she said, her voice heavier still with emotion, "Basch, Harry, I require your aid. Please assist me in bringing Vossler out of here to whatever funeral pyre they may have. And if the acolytes allow it, we will give His Grace the same courtesy."

* * *

That night, massive funeral pyres lit up Mount Bur-Omisace. More smoke filled the sky, a sort of perverse salute to the lives that had passed.

The group of adventurers watched the pyre of one of their own solemnly. While Vossler was not the most likeable of men, being suspicious of every shadow, his loyalty to Ashe and Dalmasca was in no doubt. Harry couldn't exactly call him a friend, but he was a good comrade, in spite of his suspicious nature. He and Basch stood close to Ashe as they watched Vossler's pyre, distantly hearing Fran and Mjrn reciting a Viera prayer for the dead.

Harry didn't feel sadness or sorrow at Vossler's passing, or at least not yet. Rather, he felt reproach at Vossler for sacrificing his life stupidly to save Harry's, and more self-reproach for being weak enough to nearly be killed by Bergan, monstrous though he was. He felt anger and hatred at the two Judges for perpetrating a massacre of a peaceful religious settlement. All so they could make Ivalice a tabula rasa, a blank slate for them to write their own perverse history on.

Would Vayne have done the same? Would Venat? Harry didn't know, and it was useless to speculate. All they could do was do what they could, limited though that was.

When he felt Ashe's arm snake around his waist and pull him slightly closer, he was surprised. But he didn't shy away. Instead, he took comfort from it, as he was sure she was taking comfort from him. It was all he could do at the moment. He just hoped that Vossler didn't die in vain…

 **CHAPTER 10 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hoo boy, it's been a long time since I've updated this, hasn't it? It was partly a lack of interest and partly because I had been fixated on writing Harry talking to his friends from Earth via the Speculum, but I couldn't figure out what to say and how to say it. We may have that in the next chapter, but no promises. I want to focus more on Harry/Ashe in the next chapter, if and when it comes out. Plus,** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **is, frankly, more fun to write…when I am motivated to write for it.**

 **I intended to kill off Vossler for some time at Bur-Omisace, to give him a better, more valiant ending than he did in the game. I also originally intended for Ashe to use the Nethicite against an Archadian fleet at Bur-Omisace, but I decided to plump for a combination of the battles against Bergan and Ghis. Fans of the game will note that I integrated some of Ghis' dialogue from earlier in the game in this chapter.**

 **I also fudged a concept where Bergan's abilities allowed him to kill someone without a Life spell or a Phoenix Down being effective (despite that not being the case in the game). This was something I had used previously for** ** _Harry Potter and the Cetra Heritage_** **, with Sephiroth lining his sword with a substance that prevented that very thing. Here, though, it's an ability granted by the Manufactured Nethicite Bergan used. Unlike here, Venat doesn't influence Bergan into attacking Bur-Omisace: Bergan and Ghis doing so in order to basically wipe the slate clean for Archadian rule, and on their terms rather than Vayne's. If Bergan is possessed by Venat to a degree in the game, then it's possible he's aware of Venat.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	12. Chapter 11: The Interlopers

**CHAPTER 11:**

 **THE INTERLOPERS**

They spent the next day helping around Bur-Omisace, while gathering supplies for their expedition to Giruvegan. Throughout the day, Ashe stayed close to Harry, drawing comfort from his presence. The shock of the Archadian attack on Bur-Omisace and their murder of the Gran Kilitias had put some cracks in Ashe's psychological armour. Basch kept an eye on them both: with Vossler dead, he was Ashe's sole official bodyguard, though Harry technically filled that role unofficially. But Basch wasn't in love with Ashe, or vice versa.

Ashe had admitted her love to him back at Ondore's Estate, and they had grown closer at Jahara. But Harry found little pleasure in the fact that Judge Ghis and Judge Bergan's massacre had brought Ashe even closer to him. Even leaving aside the multitude of refugees and priests, all of whom had names and lives, and yet snuffed out all the same, there were the deaths of the peaceable Gran Kilitias, and Vossler, a comrade in arms and devoted to Ashe and Dalmasca.

Ashe looked out across at the pyres, some burning, some merely smouldering, later that morning. "Do you know what I see when I see this, Harry?"

"…I can guess. Rabanastre in much the same way."

"Yes. Worse still, Vayne is clearly not wholly in control of his own underlings," Ashe said. "And there are the Rozarrians to consider. I feel like a pawn pushed around on a chessboard. Told where to go and what to do, but with little regard for my own destiny. All we have to go on is the word of a supposedly rebellious member of a group of would-be gods, and a man to whom treachery and tyranny are as natural as breathing. How Larsa is related to Vayne, I have no idea. He seems altogether too innocent to be of Solidor blood, even for one so young."

"He still seemed savvy enough, he was just too optimistic," Harry said. "And you can't make allowances for the unpredictable nutjobs. Ghis sounded like he had designs on becoming Emperor."

Ashe scoffed quietly. "I know not what is worse: an ambitious traitor like Ghis, or a bloodthirsty lunatic like Bergan was. I suppose Ghis would be marginally better: a treacherous snake he may be, but you can negotiate with the likes of him, even if you would wish to wash your hands thoroughly afterwards. You cannot negotiate with a rabid dog like Bergan, even if he was more eloquent in his growling. Al-Cid was correct about one thing: the Rozarrians will use this as further excuse to hasten their war preparations. The Archadians on one side, and the Rozarrians on the other, and betwixt them, Dalmasca, about to be squashed between them like grapes in a winepress."

"Yeah, I know. That scares me too. You lost Rasler and your father when the Archadians took over, and Vaan lost his brother too. And Basch got framed. It'll be worse this time. Vayne may have some concern about humanity in general, but I wouldn't be surprised if he still considers Dalmasca ultimately expendable. He even said he's willing to die to see his plan through, and I'll admit, he's got balls to say that. But he's still a ruthless bastard. I mean, he killed his own brothers. So we've got to prepare for the worst."

Ashe nodded. "And there is the Occuria to consider. I must confess to be reluctant to entering Giruvegan. Into the seat of the enemy."

"We have so many, don't we? I mean, Vayne, despite him helping us, is still our enemy, as is Venat. And the Archadians, for the most part, are our enemy too," Harry said. "Larsa's our only real ally in their camp."

"Indeed. And I doubt he can do much with Vayne holding the reins of the Archadians. So too Al-Cid with the Rozarrians." Ashe looked at Harry. "We are on our own."

"So…no different from what it was like before?"

Ashe scowled. "Harry, please! While I appreciate the effects of humour in lightening spirits, I do not think that was in good taste for this time."

"Sorry," Harry said, rubbing the back of his head. "But…we're used to this, Ashe. This isn't that much different from leading the Dalmascan Resistance. At least this time we have a plan. After we deal with our business at Giruvegan, we'll have to find a way to head to the Pharos at Ridorana, though how we get there when it's in Jagd…"

Ashe considered this, before saying, "The Archadian airships…they are capable of flying over Jagd, according to Balthier, remember? Either we hijack one for ourselves, or find a way to modify the _Strahl_ to be able to fly over Jagd."

"Which might mean going to Draklor Laboratories in Archades," Harry mused. "Crap. And if Doctor Cid is there, then Venat will be there too, and if that's the case…"

"We shall cross that bridge when we come to it, and not before," Ashe said quietly. "I do not look forward to another meeting with Venat, though. In any case, we head for Giruvegan on the morrow."

* * *

Basch had gone off to brood by himself. Well, brood wasn't quite the right word, despite his sometimes grim demeanour. It was more something along the lines of contemplation.

His thoughts were troubled, but not as dark as one would expect from a man who was, for a time, locked up in the Nalbina Dungeons, at the non-existent mercy of his twin brother Noah. He understood the hatred of his brother: he hadn't checked to make sure they had survived the fall of Landis, instead choosing to make himself strong enough to help Dalmasca take it back from the Archadian Empire.

He thought to what the Empire had done to Bur-Omisace. It was considered the last truly neutral bastion, beholden to no superpower, and yet, the Archadians had razed it. There were already refugees here struggling to make do, and now, the priests and acolytes of Bur-Omisace were touched by war, many of them dead, and the others struggling to get things back onto an even keel.

Ghis and Bergan were either insane, or insanely confident to think they could weather the backlash from such an incident. In any case, Vayne had instituted his _coup d'etat_ , and while he shared some purpose, that of cutting the strings of the Occuria, taking Larsa away from here meant that peace was not on Vayne's mind, even without the Judges' attack.

There was also another factor. Basch knew that Harry and Ashe had feelings for each other. Personally, he welcomed them. Ashe held herself to too high a standard, trying to be more than human, and coming across as inhuman, not quite a desirable quality in a queen. She was self-critical to a fault, and it was good to see her try and admit things about herself that made her more human.

This was, partly, because of the deaths of her father and her fiancée. Prince Rasler died in Basch's arms during the battle of Nalbina Fortress, and Basch had been forced to watch by Vayne as Noah murdered the king, and then Basch's men…and grievously wounding Reks. Both deaths impacted Ashe badly, as they did to Basch.

Basch had known Harry before the fall of Dalmasca for some time, and while a bit vulgar and too familiar with Ashe, that was actually a good thing. The boy had been haunted by ghosts from his past, especially when he felt he couldn't go home. His friendship with Ashe helped keep him on an even keel, and he became the Ghost of Dalmasca because he wanted to help Ashe and Rasler. Like he wanted to focus on his new friends, to try and stifle the sorrow of possibly losing others.

And it was Harry who brought up the possibility of Basch's innocence with Ashe and Rasler in the first place. If it weren't for Harry, Ashe and Rasler would not have even considered the possibility of Basch being innocent. Basch had to be grateful, even if Harry was basing the possibility of Basch's innocence off previous experience, of his godfather being framed for betrayal and murder that he did not commit.

The truth was, Basch, at least on personal terms, welcomed Harry and Ashe's relationship. But should they survive this little saga, then they'd have to work hard to ensure that Harry would be accepted as a new consort for Ashe. Leaving aside the fact that Harry was not nobility, Rasler was well-loved by the Dalmascan people, whereas Harry was a virtual unknown to the masses. There was also the fact that many nobles or well-connected people would jockey for Ashe to wed them or their heirs, another complicating factor. For Ashe to marry for love rather than politics or power might be tricky.

Well, one shouldn't count one's Chocobos before they hatched. That would be a mistake of the highest order. They had the Occuria to deal with, and a war to prevent. If all that was possible.

While he was caught up in his thoughts, he wasn't so caught up when he heard someone say, not far away, "…Seen this boy? He'd be a bit older, maybe nineteen. His name is Harry Potter."

Basch froze. That accent sounded vaguely like an Archadian one…or like Harry's own. He turned his head to find a small group of people standing near one of the priests. The priest, after a moment, said, "He was part of the party of Lady Ashe. That man over there is also part of that party. Maybe you could talk with him?"

Basch grimaced inwardly. That damned priest thought he was only trying to help, but he may have just directed enemies of Harry to them. Basch readied himself as the group approached, preparing to spring into action at a moment's notice. He heard one of the group mutter, "Trust my godson to be right in the middle of trouble. Potter Luck strikes again."

The one who had spoken to the priest, a girl about Harry and Ashe's age, with bushy hair, and a pair of mismatched eyes, one brown, the other electric blue and moving around erratically, was the one to approach Basch. He noted that she looked like she had seen her fair share of battles. In fact, the quartet approaching all looked that way. "Can I help you?" he asked politely.

"We're looking for this boy," the girl said, showing a photograph, one that seemed to be moving, depicting a younger Harry with said girl, albeit younger and less battle-scarred, and a red-haired boy with freckles.

"And why is that? Why do you seek this boy?" Basch asked. He knew how to fight against Harry with magic, and he was ready to deal with them should they draw wands. "Are you friend or foe?"

"We haven't got time for this!" snapped the one who called Harry his godson. Hmm, was this Sirius Black? He matched the descriptions. "That priest said you were with my godson!"

"And? I am sworn to guard my charges with my life," Basch said. "Identify yourselves at once."

"Calm down," a careworn man with haunted amber eyes said, standing close to a woman with pink hair. He then said to Basch, "I'm sorry, this was the first lead we've had since coming here. We need to see Harry at once. If you do know him, tell him…tell him 'we solemnly swear we are up to no good'. He'll know what that means."

Basch, uncertainly, headed back to try and find Harry and Ashe, and found the two not far away, watching the pyres burn. "Lady Ashe, Harry, I bring…tidings, of a sort, though whether they are welcome or not, I do not know. There are people looking for you, Harry. I have just spoken with them. One of them said to me, to tell you, 'we solemnly swear we are up to no good'."

* * *

Harry felt a chill go down his spine at those words. No, it couldn't be…he looked up sharply, only to find a group of very familiar people following Basch. He wanted to deny that they were there, that they had survived, and yet here they were. A bit grimmer, a bit more scarred, but he knew these people.

Still, he took out his wand, and pointed it at them. "Tell me something I would only know," he said coldly. He needed to be sure.

"You summoned the Knight Bus in fright when we first met," said the dark-haired man with the grey eyes.

"Your Boggart was a Dementor, and I taught you the Patronus," the scarred, haggard-looking man said.

"…We travelled back in time and rode Buckbeak to save Sirius," the bushy-haired girl said.

"And what does Nymphadora have to say?" Harry asked.

"DON'T CALL ME NYMPHADORA!" the pink-haired woman yelled.

Harry chuckled, although his mirth had a somewhat strained quality to it, as tears began to trickle from his eyes. "It's you, it's really you, I…I thought…I thought that…" He frowned when the haggard-looking man pointed his wand and cast a spell. "What the hell are you doing, Moony?!"

The scarred man looked at the others. "It's gone, thank Merlin. Sorry, Harry…but your scar had some dark magic that we needed to be sure was gone. Thankfully, it is. Anyway, I'm Remus Lupin, and this is my wife, Dora, though most people still call her Tonks. This old mutt is Sirius Black, and this is Hermione Granger."

"I see," Ashe said. "Well met. Harry has spoken of you before. I am sorry we have not met under better circumstances. I wonder, though, do you know what has happened in this world?"

"…We've only been here for a week," Hermione said. "Much of that was spent on flying via broomstick. We found some rumours of you being in Rabanastre, before we headed here. Harry…" Tears welled up in her eyes, just as they were in Harry's. "You're alive…"

It was a sentiment Harry shared, even if he couldn't voice it. Maybe he didn't need the Speculum after all. And maybe, with his friends from back home here, there was more they could do to stop the Occuria…and the Archadians…

 **CHAPTER 11 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **Hoo boy. It's been a while, hasn't it? Sadly, motivation has been lacking for me to continue this story, and I don't have any idea when the next chapter will come out. Still, this fic is far from dead, and hopefully, I can do another chapter for** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **as well.**

 **I'll be honest, bringing in Harry's friends from another world was not what I had planned when beginning to write this chapter. But I did it before for my** ** _Final Fantasy VII_** **crossover** ** _Vert the Emerald and the Cetra Heritage_** **, and for my** ** _Girl Genius_** **crossover** ** _Girl Genius and Her Animagus_** **, so why not here? Okay, that renders the whole thing about the Speculum moot…but maybe I can find another use for it…**

 **Review-answering time!** **Blackholelord** **: I found the whole fantasy trope of the hero marrying the princess in the end to be a rather stupid cliché, myself. Here, it's mainly because Harry and Ashe have been friends for some time, and Ashe is gradually letting go of her grief for Rasler. Vaan is pretty much a secondary character in the game where, nominally, he is the main character. I personally think that Ashe and Balthier (ironic, considering his own claims in the game) have better claims to being the main character. Vaan and Penelo are a bit like the characters Tahei and Matashichi from the Akira Kurasawa film** ** _The Hidden Fortress_** **, which in turn inspired the portrayal of R2-D2 and C3PO from** ** _Star Wars_** **, in that they are characters of relatively lowly station who get swept up in events involving kingdoms. This isn't to demean either of them, but their roles in the storyline are relatively small after a certain point, with Vaan mostly acting as a moral compass to Ashe.**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


	13. Chapter 12: Reunions

**CHAPTER 12:**

 **REUNIONS**

"How many died, Hermione?"

The blunt question from Harry took the bushy-haired girl briefly off-guard as they walked along the paths of Bur-Omisace, but she shook her head. "Too many. Dumbledore's dead, though not before leaving us a task he didn't finish. The Twins, Charlie and Ginny are dead too. A third of the staff at Hogwarts, not to mention most of the Order, are gone. Most of the Death Eaters are gone. We won, but it's almost a pyrrhic victory. We came here because Dumbledore had instruments saying you were still alive. Took us long enough to find a way to get here."

"But why?"

"Dumbledore," Sirius growled, "knew there was something called a Horcrux in your scar, a fragment of Voldemort's soul. He believed that it could only be removed with your death. His notes suggested he was trying to find a way to save you, but frankly, I think he was shaping you up to be a martyr. There's another group of us elsewhere in Ivalice, searching Rozarria. Neville, Luna, Ron and Andromeda Tonks. We'll send word by Patronus that we found you."

"What about Snape?" Harry asked. He was hoping, more out of vindictiveness over Snape's vendetta with him, that the bastard was dead.

"Voldemort killed him. He was on our side…or at least working for Dumbledore rather than Voldemort. I think he was on nobody's side except his own," Hermione said bitterly. "We were going to see if we could find you, get rid of the Horcrux without killing you, and see whether you wanted to come home."

"I can't," Harry said, shaking his head. "Not now. We've got problems, and I have something of a commitment to fulfil here. Mostly to Ashe here."

"Ashe?" Hermione asked.

Ashe nodded. "Harry spoke highly of you, Hermione. I am Princess Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. Though I would thank you not to advertise that. I only trust you enough to tell you because Harry trusts you."

"Wait, what?" Sirius yelped. "You're with a princess, Harry?!"

"He is one of my loyal friends and comrades," Ashe said. "This is my bodyguard, Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg. Both he and I are considered deceased by the people. As far as the populace believe, I killed myself out of grief because of the deaths of my father and my fiancée, while Basch was executed after assassinating my father. Both stories were false. We have other travelling companions. I ask you, though, would you consider coming along with us? We have a mission of considerable import."

"What, to regain your throne?" Remus asked.

"That is indeed one of my goals, but a more urgent concern is to prevent war from breaking out," Ashe said. "I ask you because I need as much help as I can get, and as Harry trusts you…"

Hermione looked at them, and then sighed. "Out of one war and into another. We'll help, but we want to know what's going on…"

* * *

Introductions were made (with Sirius warned by Harry and Balthier not to ogle Fran or Mjrn too much, for his own health), and so too were very long explanations. By the end of it, Hermione was pinching the bridge of her nose. "You and your saving people thing, Harry," she muttered in moderate but fond exasperation. "So, we have these Occuria to deal with, and Vayne Solidor as well."

"Hey, don't blame me for that. Vayne and the Archadians were the ones who wanted to conquer Dalmasca. Though Vayne…he's both our ally and enemy, though he's a lot more helpful about it than Snape," Harry pointed out. "And he actually uses shampoo too."

Vaan looked at Harry flatly. "Really? You like Vayne better than this Snape guy because he uses shampoo?"

"Never underestimate the greasy horror that was Snivellous Snape's hair," Sirius pointed out, shuddering. "There was so much grease in it, it was practically a sentient being…and not a nice one either."

"Levity aside, we are to head to Giruvegan on the morrow," Ashe said. "I'm sorry that I cannot give you more time to catch up with Harry, but time is of the essence. Will you help us?"

"Need you ask?" Sirius said. "You probably have your hands full enough trying to keep him from getting hurt."

Ashe actually chuckled a little, even if her laughter was a little forced in light of recent events. "Then I thank you for your help. I appreciate it…"

* * *

Later that afternoon, Ashe had left Harry to catch up with his friends. And in truth, she wasn't sure whether she could be too long around Hermione. Not because she objected to the girl's presence. She hadn't really considered that the girl might be a rival, but Hermione had known Harry for longer than Ashe. And she wasn't sure what to make of it. She hoped that this little notion she had was wrong, that it was merely paranoia born of two years being a fugitive.

As she wandered away, deep in thought, she heard the Tonks woman say, "Wotcher, Ashe. You okay?"

"I am fine, Miss Tonks," Ashe said, turning to face the pink-haired woman.

"You don't have to call me 'Miss'. Just Tonks. I'm a married woman, and I'll be damned if people call me by my first name," Tonks said.

"What is wrong with Nymphadora? I wouldn't mind it myself," Ashe said.

Tonks merely scowled. "Yeah, but you probably wouldn't have to put up with bullying at school. I mean, did you have tutors or something?"

"Indeed. I do see your point, but I still find it a beautiful name. Tonks, then, what ails you?"

"Nothing, really. I just wanted to say hello. To talk. I mean, it's not every day you meet a princess, even if she's deposed or whatever. Anyway, Harry could get his stories out of Hermione, Remus, and the old dog." On Ashe's confused look, she clarified, "Sirius. Anyway, I don't want to hear them talk about…well, let's just say that I was pregnant when some twat cursed me."

"Oh. I see. My apologies. But what did you want to talk about, Tonks?"

"Just…I just wanted to talk to the girl Harry's friends with. I reckon Hermione wanted to do so too, but she's talking to Harry. Girl's got a tendency to talk your ear off." Tonks sighed quietly. "And I'm sorry if I come across as rude to royalty…"

"No, it's fine," Ashe said. "I can deal with familiarity and a lack of protocol. Believe me, I've had practise for the past couple of years. I speak like I do out of habit from years of tuition, but I am used to Harry, as well as Vaan, Penelo, and Balthier speaking to me without deference. Balthier, frankly, is harder to deal with than you, Tonks. My tutors would doubtless be mortified…but elocution and etiquette are not as useful to survival as being able to fight. So, what did you want to talk about?"

"A few things. Firstly, well, this comes from all of us. Thanks for helping Harry, being his friend when we couldn't be there for him. Knowing him, the guilt of his friends maybe dying probably got to him."

"Indeed it did," Ashe said. "He spoke highly of you all, and he never knew if he could return to help you. It tore at him. He kept me sane and level since I lost my father, my husband, and my throne. I would hope that I reciprocated when he worried about what happened to you."

"…And he's more to you than just a friend, isn't he?" As Ashe whirled to face Tonks, the pink-haired woman shrugged. "The way you look at each other…I know there's something more going on than just friendship and him serving you. Well…I'm glad he's got someone. He's had a hard life back home, and he deserves some happiness."

Ashe blinked. "But…Hermione…"

"They were more like brother and sister, and besides, she's seeing Neville Longbottom," Tonks laughed. "Oh, they could have been boyfriend and girlfriend…but it didn't happen like that. Bloody stupid old goat, keeping things too close to his chest…" she muttered bitterly. "At least once we got here, Harry got us up to speed as to what the hell was going on."

"Old goat? Oh, you must mean Dumbledore," Ashe said.

Tonks nodded. "Don't get me wrong, Dumbledore helped us stay together when Harry was lost…and he wanted to stop Voldemort, even if it meant his life…but the stupid old bastard kept too many secrets, never telling his allies what was going on until it was too late. If he had done that more…well, more people would still be alive. Including my father…and my child."

"…You have my condolences," Ashe said. "While I know not what it is like to lose a child, I do know what it is like to lose loved ones."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry to vent, I'm still bitter about what Dumbledore could have done…but didn't. Sometimes I'm glad that curse killed him slowly and painfully," Tonks muttered. "You probably know what it is like for us, then, for Harry to apparently die. For the Dalmascans, your father and your husband must've been seen as symbols of hope."

"Rasler…yes, he was, more than my father," Ashe said quietly. "And I may have been for many in Dalmasca myself. I tell myself it was for my own protection, so that I could regain my strength, and then retake the throne, but what we have been able to do against the Archadians seem to be little more than flea-bitings. I could do more with the Nethicite…but…have you seen the Necrohol that Nabudis has become?"

"Umm, no. What's a Necrohol?"

"A dead city, ravaged by magic. Harry had compared it to a weapon on your world known as a nuclear weapon. You are aware of those?"

"Yeah," Tonks said solemnly. "Most wizards wouldn't be, but my dad was a Muggleborn. They're nasty things to say the least. So, this Nabudis place got basically nuked by Nethicite?"

"The Midlight Shard, specifically, thanks to the Archadians wanting to test its power. Yet another atrocity to be laid at their doorstep," Ashe commented bitterly.

"And you've got one of those rattling around in your bag. Please don't trip on something and set it off," Tonks said. "I like my atoms kept together, thank you."

Ashe managed to stop herself from laughing at the joke. "I'm well aware of the gravity of the situation. And if what Harry told me is true, you were the one prone to clumsiness."

"Metamorphmagi have wonky senses of balances anyway. It's because our brains have to adapt to different body types. You try changing bodies and see how long you can keep your balance…"

* * *

They had spent the last little while catching up on little things. "I'll send a Patronus to the others," Hermione finally said. "Hopefully, they can use the Portkey we customised to home in on us."

"…Are they going to be happy to see me?" Harry asked. People had died because he wasn't there to help them. They might be bitter about that.

"They will be, Harry," Sirius said.

Hermione spoke quietly to the ethereal otter she had conjured. "We have found Harry. Free of Horcrux. He is at Bur-Omisace, with company. Embroiled in local events. Use Portkey to get to our location." After sending the Patronus on its way, she said, a little more loudly, "I know you're concerned, Harry. Frankly, we didn't know what we were going to find here in Ivalice. And while you're embroiled in this conflict…it's in a way that's better than we could've hoped. We were half-expecting you to be taken over by the Horcrux, or working for the Empire or the Rozarrians, or something."

"Such a vote of confidence in your friend," Balthier remarked wryly.

"It wasn't that. Just being through the war forced us to consider all sorts of worst-case scenarios," Remus said. "We hoped for the best, but we had to expect the worst."

"A sound way of thinking," Basch said, nodding.

"So, when are these guys getting here?" Vaan asked.

"It depends. They could be in the middle of something," Hermione said. "Ivalice has many monsters, and they could have gotten into trouble."

"Getting into trouble seems to be an increasingly common malady these days," Balthier said. "How long does that Patronus thing take to travel?"

"Minutes at most to reach its destination. It's not exactly radio or email, but it does the trick."

"Our numbers swell," Fran remarked. "Is it wise to travel with so many?"

"We have plenty of provisions," Remus said. "Enough to share even with the refugees here. And we've managed to get used to fighting the monsters here. We can pull our weight."

"It's not just that Fran worries about, but our numbers. Before you arrived, we numbered ten, including Larsa and Vossler," Balthier pointed out. "Even with Larsa and Vossler departed, we now number a dozen, and if there are four others, we number sixteen. Such a group may attract more attention."

"It matters not," Basch said. "They are Harry's friends, and if they are good in a fight, I would be glad to have them by our side."

"Basch's right," Harry said. "I've known these people for much of my life. I trust them, as much as I trust you guys…"

 **CHAPTER 12 ANNOTATIONS:**

 **So, there you have it. Some catching up, and some resolutions. We might have Hermione and Ashe talking about Harry in a later chapter, but I thought of the clumsy and plebeian Tonks making an interesting contrast with Ashe, who is still very much a princess, even if she is also deposed and forced to be a guerrilla fighter.**

 **That being said, it definitely WILL be some time before the next chapter. Hope these two somewhat consecutive ones make up for it. Also, at the same time as this one, I am also uploading a new chapter of** ** _Nitimur in Vetitum_** **. Yes, that's right, I've updated that fic for the first time in over a year!**

 **No numbered annotations this time.**


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